Vanity
by Rachel-Jane Kensington
Summary: They say Vanity is the mother of all sins...Tom Riddle manipulates a fellow Slytherin and as he uses her, she watches his ambition grow and his dreams become a reality. Period piece set in the 1943 1944 Hogwarts school year, meaning Tom is in his 6th year
1. Prolgue

**Prologue: They Say Vanity Got the Best of Her**

_October of my sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1944_

---

It was Thursday. There was a test in Charms that most of the other students were probably still studying for. Technically I still had about ten minutes before lunch ended to get in some last minute cramming about the components of an invisibility charm. The thought provoked a small, satirical smile to perk up my mouth. As though _**I**_ needed to study…I found myself instead in the girls' lavatory looking in a mirror. I ran my fingers through my hair repeatedly, trying to coax this last bit of perfection into place as the Gryffindor girl next to me rambled about some boy named Cornelius. She hadn't shut up for the last ten minutes about this guy, as though I cared. Didn't she realize I needed to concentrate while applying my make-up? Lowly little loser.

Who was this girl anyway? Glancing at her reflection, I sized her up. Her hair needed a good wash, maybe some brushing. Wouldn't do her much good, but at least she'd look presentable.

"He's a whole two years younger than me Lydia! But gosh he's so handsome!"-

_'He's fourteen for Merlin sakes, he probably looks more feminine than you…not that it would be hard to accomplish.'_

"I just _**know**_ he likes me. Do you think he likes me? I mean really likes me? He went out for the quidditch team you know." She sighed, a far off smile appearing across her pale lips. Finally I turned to her.

"Do I know you?" I snapped. My tone didn't seem to even _**support**_ the idea of friendliness. She was shocked rigid, staring at me dumbly.

"Amelia Tresky? I sit behind you in potions? We were partners in Astronomy last week." She said this with every conviction that these clues were not only unmistakable, but that it meant we were now far more than acquaintances.

"Oh!" Amiable recognition lit up my features. "I remember you! You hit your head on your telescope and spun it around. Took you half the class period to realize the stars weren't clear because you were looking out of the wrong side."

From the look she gave me Amelia clearly remembered. She giggled casually, desperately wanting to laugh it off. Cute of her to think I'd show that much compassion. It wasn't my fault she lacked grace.

"Yes, that was rather funny of me, wasn't it?"she said, her voice soft in pressured agreement.

_'Grow some nerves honey, __**honestly**__.' _I scoffed inwardly.

I pretended to look as if thinking for a moment or two. And technically I was…_'Sorry sweetheart, I don't play the politeness game.' _Laying a hand on her shoulder I looked at her as if a tragedy had just occurred.

"Actually, it was rather thick of you." And with that I traipsed off for Professor Flitwick's classroom leaving her to sulk. After all, what's the point of being in Slytherin if you can't have a bit of fun now and then?

"Where were you?" Gregory discretely hissed in my ear as I walked into Charms, taking my usual seat just as Professor Flitwick began explaining the conditions of our test.

"I was taking care of a few things, that's all. Why? Did I miss anything?" I pulled my chair in and focused my eyes on our teacher, as though apt and ready to learn.

"Just roll call, and _almost_ the test."he growled.

"Well I'm here now. Stop worrying yourself." '_Honestly Greg, can't you learn to do anything besides imitate my nag-happy mother?'_

Greg was my boyfriend. I'm sure you can simply _**feel **_the love oozing out from the two of us. Gregory tended to get so dreadfully overprotective of me that I took every opportunity to step out of the lines he drew for me. Not that I didn't enjoy his attention on some level, or playing into his dramatics. Scaring him out of his wits that I was constantly taking things too far was just an added bonus.

I sighed and looked down at the parchment in front of me. Another day at Hogwarts. Another test. Dipping my quill into the open ink bottle at the edge of my desk, I began.

My attention was set and undivided…until that prat, Riddle, got up to turn in his parchment sheet after just 20 minutes. _**Of course**_ he was finished first. Were _all_ brilliant freaks so annoying? Every teacher at Hogwarts loved Riddle. He was a prefect, he was undeniably smart, he was an unbelievable suck-up, and his story was as angst worthy as they came and yet he didn't show it. Actually, how he'd ever gotten himself into Slytherin house in the first place I would've loved to know. He certainly didn't belong there by my record.

Yes, I was quite territorial about my house. Only those who deserved to enter should be allowed and that was simply the end of it. Our founder would be a right mess if he saw the zoo this place had become. All those damn mud bloods running about, re-populating like bunnies. Even Tom Riddle, who as I said earlier represented our house as a prefect, only had half the blood of a wizard running around in his veins. It was enough to make me sick.

I sighed, returning my eyes to the test paper at hand. Ah well, it wasn't like an orphan with dirty blood was going to do anything important in the wizarding world anyways. I had a test I needed to finish and he wasn't worth my time.


	2. Slytherin

**Chapter One: Dirty Blooded Brat**

It was just after dinner in the Great Hall. Greg and our friends were all still at our seats, talking and laughing as usual. It was like that every night. Have the time of our lives and let everyone watch on hopelessly. It only added to our grins.

The bells tolled. It was already 8 o'clock. We figured we'd best be getting back to the common room. Or at least that's where my friends were headed. I had some poking around to do. A few day ago I'd found a room on the seventh floor that I was still curious about and I had every intention of going exploring.

"Gregory would you stop worrying! I'm just going to take a walk."

"If you're not allowing me to go then you're doing something wrong."

A mocking laugh escaped me.

"Listen to yourself, you sound like you belong in _Hufflepuff_." That was all he ever needed to hear and he almost always shut himself up. Satisfied, I turned to go, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

"I'm just worried for you is all. You know that."

_'All I know is that you don't like being left out of my fun.' _

Contrary to my annoyed thoughts, my features softened. Sucking up wasn't just reserved for teachers.

"And I appreciate it, really. But I can handle myself." My lips met his briefly,"Trust me, I've stayed alive this long." With out being able to keep myself from getting up the stairs any longer I left his side for good that time.

_'Why did my parents pick __?' _I ground my teeth, rolling my eyes as soon as Greg was behind me. Of course I answered myself immediately.

They picked him because he was wealthy. Or rather his father was wealthy. His blood was pure. He was in my year. Hell, I had to be honest, he was rather good looking as well. But none of those things were very exciting since I'd grown up surrounded by them, spoiled by an omnipresence of them in my life. Pure blood, money, beauty. It _was_ my life. In that order, too.

Now where was that door? I could have sworn it had just been there yesterday afternoon. I must've searched the entire seventh floor four times before I started to entertain the idea of defeat. My back was tired from carrying my bag all day, my feet were frustrated with my curiosity for being so hard to extinguish. But I couldn't shake the hope that if I just kept looking I'd surely find something. Because that stupid door **had** been here…hadn't it?

I ran a tired hand through my by-now-thick-with-oil hair. It wanted to be cleaned. The rest of my body joined the protest as I suddenly became aware of how good a hot shower sounded. However my natural ambition flared up in protest: _'How can you be giving up so soon?'_ it argued.

_'Maybe…maybe just _**one **_more time around the'-_

"You there,"my eyes looked up. A rather tall boy was taking quick steps down the corridor towards me. I rolled my eyes when, seconds later, I realized who it was. Tom. There was no point in trying to ignore him, his legs were long and fast and within moments he was slowing to a stop right in front of me.

"Miss Delatorre, may I inquire as to the occasion that you should find yourself so far from Slytherin House at this hour?"his hands were clasped behind his back, and his cumbersome words flowed with ease. He didn't frown but looked at me as if amused.

"Oh, good show Thomas. You've caught me. But as you're so familiar with the rules, you'll of course know that being in sixth year, as yourself, entitles me to roam about the castle where ever I so desire until 9:30pm." The bells had recently tolled nine o'clock and I used this against him, "I believe that gives me another _thirty minutes_."

He didn't seem fazed in the slightest, only taunting me further. "That's very good Lydia. However, I asked you _why_ you were roaming, not to recite your rights."

"Is your life really so boring that you have to prod into mine?"

"Only when I'm on duty." He smirked. He had an attractive smile, I'd give him that. I afforded him a sardonic smirk of my own before heading off towards the stairs. If he wanted me back in the common room, fine. I'd be more than happy to get out of his way.

However, it didn't seem he was going to get out of mine.

"When I need to be escorted back to my own House I'll let you know." I kept my eyes ahead of me as I started down a staircase.

"Are you always this catty?" I could hear the smile in Tom's voice. I could picture the leer he was wearing right then and the thought un-nerved me ever so slightly.

"To people like you? Yes." My gaze continued to avert his own.

"People like me?" he chuckled, "Meaning your authority figures." His breath was a little too close to my ear for my comfort. I turned on him.

"It _means _dirty blooded brats who don't even deserve to walk in the same halls as the purebloods, let alone be in Slytherin House." I got off at the ground floor and strut away quickly before I had to listen to him anymore.

* * *

"Honestly professor it was only a spot of fun. There was no malicious intent meant whatsoever." I looked sweetly at Professor Dumbledore. I'd never liked him much. Such a bloody Gryffindor. In any event he was my Transfiguration professor and I was, at the present moment, being forced to suck up somewhat in yet another speech on why I shouldn't be getting into trouble.

Honestly, all I'd done was transfigure Dorothy Bells' voice box so all she could do for the next 24 hours was 'moo', it's not like I had killed anyone. Served her right for thinking she could get away with gossiping about me. It wasn't my fault she didn't have the sense to wait until I was out of earshot, I was simply defending myself. But no, Dumbledore's got to go and have kittens, trying to give me a detention.

"I am sorry Miss Delatorre, but I have already ignored many of your past infringements. You must take responsibility for your actions."

"I completely agree with you. Too many people nowadays think they can get away with anything. There must be punishment so they'll think twice about things like larceny and spreading malicious rumors. I was merely doing my duty towards Miss Bells. No one was about to punish after all. And where's the justice in that?"

He bowed his head ever so slightly and put his palms together as if praying. "And the staff and I thank you so very much for your services. However, Mrs. Bells, Dorothy's mother, will be right to complain to the school and as you saw your responsibility so too do I have an obligation. I sorry Lydia, but perhaps next time you'll, how did you put it? Think twice?"

He handed me a slip that told me the date and all of my detention. Clutching it in my hand, my lips pursed.

"There you are. I hope you have a splendid afternoon. Good day Ms. Delatorre." he said, with nerve enough to smile at me.

"Good day to you, Sir." I ground the words out before turning round swiftly and strutting out.

My friends were in a right state trying not to laugh hysterically when they found out that afternoon at lunch. I managed to get my way out of almost anything and the fact that an old bat of a man had just made a fool of me was nothing short of comical to them.

I served my detention on a Saturday night. Dumbledore had me pulling weeds in every single green house with out the aid of magic. Needless to say, massive amounts of dirt got under my well manicured nails and caked all across my normally sterile hands. Hands that had never seen a day of work in their lives. With every scoop of dirt my hatred for my Transfiguration professor grew. I'd gone down at 7:30 and wasn't allowed to leave for the castle until 9:30. Curfew was then underway and I had no choice but to go back to Slytherin House and go to bed.

Part of me didn't mind, weed pulling was exhausting. I never wanted to even about life without magic again. My neck ached desperately from leaning over flower pots for two hours as my feet throbbed like fire from standing for so long.

Trudging into the entrance hall, I was beginning to feel heavy with fatigue. The rugs and tapestries became a blurry mess of shapes and colors and I rubbed at my eyes in frustration. The suits of armor seemed to tilt on their stands, morbidly threatening. What was going on? I couldn't remember ever being so damn tired.

"Lydia?" My name reached me in the form of a faint question. There was someone up ahead coming out of the dungeons…but the candle light was making everything so very…fuzzy. "Lydia?"

I recognized the high-pitched, male voice as it resounded with much clearer diction this time.

"Oh, what do you want at this hour Thomas? Isn't it past your bedtime?" I did need chiding from a prefect right then. Honestly, couldn't he just leave me the bugger alone for once? His response to my grumble was merely another sardonic smile.

"Perhaps I should remind you that not the one coming in off the grounds past curfew."

"If you must know, I had detention in the greenhouse…all of them, actually."

His smile spread to a grin, "Ah, I see. I was wondering how you'd managed to avoid it for so long with such blatant disrespect as yours."

"This coming from the teacher's pet poster child? You wouldn't know real disrespect if it slapped you."

"Well, 'real disrespect' is welcome to try and see what will happen." His soft smirk remained as he mocked me.

I regarded him for a moment in mild disgust before rolling my eyes, "I don't need this from you." I sighed, turning to make for the dungeons.

"Giving up so soon are we?" his statement was practically a challenge.

"I'm sorry," I turned slowly, "are you still talking?"

"Yes, and in perfect English. Should I speak slower for you Lydie dear?"

My jaw set and I glared his way, "I don't think we're quite on the basis of pet names yet. You don't even know me."

"Don't I?" he cocked his head in mock surprise. "That's funny, because you seem to think you know quite a lot about _me_. You think you know quite a lot about everyone at this school. So go on, tell me something about myself ."

"I asked you not to…" a sigh of frustration caused me to trail off, "Fine. I'll tell you something about yourself. You are _nothing_ like me and my friends. We have _nothing_ in common and I want _nothing_ to do with you." Again I turned to go.

"Even though we're in the same house? Perhaps we're more alike than meets the eye?" His voice called out and halted my steps once more.

_'Christ, does he ever _**shut up**_?'_

"You shouldn't even in Slytherin." I spat over my shoulder. "Salazar would to see such filth not only in this school, but in his very house."

"Do not assume so much." His chuckle seemed malicious somehow, almost disturbed in a way. He knew something I did not and it made me feel very unsafe. I made the effort to turn fully towards him, my fatigue still nagging at the back of my mind as curiosity got the better of me.

"What are you talking about?" the drowsy words were strung together in a mild slur as a I massaged the back of my neck with my palm.

"Don't worry on it. You should go back to the common room. Back to your bed where you can sleep. You look positively exhausted."

"And where are you going?" for he was still at the foot of the grand staircase and I was sure he hadn't left the dungeons to find _me_. His robes were absent, as was his prefect badge, and I had to wonder what he was up to.

"I'm going to the prefect's bath. A nice, hot bath is exactly what I need after such a trying day, don't you agree?" he taunted.

"Sounds lovely." I gave him a bored sigh, my hands rubbing at my eyes with a tired clumsiness.

"I might have asked you along, but you seem so weary. I won't keep you any longer."

His words almost made me loose my already declining balance. This was getting embarrassing. It was as if some presence had crawled within my thoughts, curled up to go to bed and now everything else in my brain was joining the motion.

"But I can't go…I'm not…" I forced myself to stay awake, desperate to win the fight against my eyelids. "I'm not a prefect, I'm not allowed in there. And-and anyways, it's past curfew."

Tom took a few steps closer. His arm came to rest around my shoulder, while the other tried to help steady me by firmly holding the small of my back.

"Stop fighting so hard. You need rest." I'd never heard his voice so soft, so sincere. My resentment for the boy and all the reasons behind that resentment were suddenly hard to remember. Within seconds I didn't even want to remember. "Close your eyes, let me lead you. Trust me Lydia." He led me up the stairs, speaking of a pool of warm water that I could sink into. Dim candle light that would allow my eyes to rest. Soft, fluffy towels…taps of sweet smelling bath wash…mounds of bubbles…marble floors…

Suddenly we'd stopped. I had been sure it would've taken longer than that, surely I wasn't so tired that I was loosing track of time. He said some kind of password I didn't hear properly and the door opened. I blinked open my eyes. The room was fairly impressive, done in the style of an indoor Roman bath. The pool itself, as well as two feet outward from it, were sunken down in the floor while everything else was seemingly raised. Arched alcoves surrounded the pool and those alcoves led to more archways with curtains. I assumed these were dressing rooms. The entire room was halfheartedly lit by a splendid candelabra hanging above the bath. Creamy marble doubled the light with its dull gold reflections. The scene was a welcomed sight to tired eyes but I kept my impressions to myself.

Tom ushered me through one of the curtains and told me to change quickly. At this point I was too tired to think my actions through. I was in the Prefect's bath past curfew with a mud blood who was encouraging me to take off my clothes and get into a pool of water with him. Things were looking wildly out of hand. But in my mind I had the situation completely under control. I was more than convinced I could handle myself. It wasn't as if Tom posed any real threat.

Stripping down to my slip, I neatly folded my clothes and set them in the corner before walking out. Some vague thought involving embarrassment over appearing before Tom in nothing but lace and satin flittered through my mind. But this was forgotten as a hate arose towards the uncomfortably cold sting of marble tile on the sensitive bottoms of my bare feet.

Tom already had a few taps running and the bath water was steaming lightly. My steps led me down into the pool. Hot water crept up my legs, then my slip, soaking the negligee and seeping warmth into my skin.

My eyes couldn't stop themselves from studying Thomas' bare back and its structure. Broad shoulders…a long, well defined spine…not as much muscle as there could be, but still strong. His skin wasn't as pale as usual in the dim firelight and it seemed to simply ache of beauty.

Without warning he turned, rocking the water around him into soft, silent ripples. I was fully within the pool now, the water stopped an inch or two below my shoulders and as Tom got closer it was a reminder of how much taller he was than I. He stood at least a head higher than my own. Looking down at me his smile was soft.

He smiled an awful lot. This to me showed great confidence and while I was intrinsically drawn to confidence, I also knew to be somewhat wary of it as well. What was he so amused by? The age old phrase _"The bigger the smile, the sharper the knife" _came back to me. It was a phrase my mother had used often at home.

"Why did you ask me to come with you tonight?" the question was only half suspicious.

"You looked like you needed it."

I cocked my head, "Is that concern or an insult?"

"Neither, you're just paranoid."

"_That _was an insult." My own smile was small and wry.

"Truth hurts." he shrugged.

I chanced a few steps closer.

"Should I be?" the intonation in my voice soft, sincere. I'd never even done anything like this with Greg; he'd never have been up for it anyhow, too scared. So why was I so comfortable with Tom? Was it because we really _were_ more alike than first glance would tell? Hmm, I didn't trust_ that_ either.

"Paranoid?" he asked and then shrugged, "Perhaps."

"You said earlier I shouldn't assume so much…what did you mean?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he goaded. He began moving slowly, swimming almost, around me.

"I believe I asked for a reason, yes." He was behind me and I did my best to keep my eyes on him.

"I was referring to your assumptions of me, despite the qualities that sorted us into Slytherin house."

"Why are you in Slytherin anyways? Shouldn't someone like you be a Gryffindor?"

"Someone like me?" he repeated curiously. "Are you referring to my blood line again?"

"Not necessarily."

"What then? What qualities make me so Gryffindor worthy? Or _unworthy_ of Slytherin, as you put it earlier."

It was my turn to shrug, "I don't know…you're honest."-

"How do you know my true intentions?"

"Don't interrupt me, it's rude." I sneered before continuing, "You're a teacher's pet and a prefect and smart and brave."-

"You think of me as brave?" again in front of me as he drifted, he seemed quite amused by this.

"No, think you have a hero complex. But your reputation says you're brave. It's Gryffindor mint either way."

"Anything else you'd like to tell me about myself?" He'd swum around me twice and now remained behind me. His words were a whisper over the skin of my ear as he brushed my dark hair over the opposite shoulder.

"You're driven…" The shiver that ran down my spine, across my shoulders and down my arms was out of my control and I cursed it. But he didn't say anything. Had he even noticed?

"Ah, ambition…yes, I'm quite motivated towards my goals. But I believe that's a trait of our own house, is it not?"

"I suppose it depends on your goals."

"And what exactly _are _my goals? Do you have any idea?"

"Saving the world?" I mocked him, laughing softly.

"I'm impressed, Lydie. You were close." his hands were on my shoulders. I didn't like him touching me at all. I wanted to back away, to turn on him and shout at his very nerve. Funny, I wasn't actually able to any of those things. Where the hell had my own nerve run off to?

"Of course I was." I smirked.

"Close, but not right." His hands moved in closer to my neck and I felt a mild amount of pressure being applied just above my shoulder blades. Tom Riddle was getting away with massaging my back in a bath. Still, something kept me passive. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed to know what he was doing and after leaning over flower pots for two hours the feeling was deliciously divine.

"So enlighten me. What are your goals in life?"

"Absolute power." he breathed over my ear.

A low giggle escaped my lips. "Corrupt already are we?"

"_Slytherin_."

"Touché. So, what? You think being every teacher's pet is going to get you that?" I asked him, my tone somewhat jeering.

"Well it's not just what you know, it's who you know."

"Do I sense cunning?" My melodramatic gasp was fake, but the smile I was wearing couldn't have been more real.

"Another trait of Slytherin house. Perhaps you are judging a book by its cover?"

"Or its blood." I winced when his strong hands constricted around my shoulders much harder for a moment. "Ah!" I hissed, turning 180 degrees to glare at him, immediately reaching around to feel my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" he asked innocently, raising his eyebrows. I didn't even consider whether he was being sincere or not.

"Don't touch me anymore." I set my jaw and began making my way towards the side of the pool.

"Why? Are you afraid you'll enjoy it?"

"I _was_ enjoying it, until you attempted to fracture my shoulder blades." Perhaps it was the water awakening my senses but I felt shaken awake somehow. Merlin, how tired I must have been to be convinced into coming here with Tom slowly advanced on me but I was much more alert of my surroundings now and was having none of it. My feet quickly found the edge of the bath and I pulled my self out, dripping soapy water all across the tile.

"Feeling better so soon?"

"Quite." I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around me. I turned to face him just before I went into the curtained alcove, "I don't know what you're playing at, but I'm leaving. Good night Tom." Roughly closing the curtain behind me I stood still for a moment in the small, candle-lit alcove. Safety washed over me as I picked my wand up from the floor, just holding the yew handle in my grip made me feel better.

"Aqua Evanesco." I mumbled, tapping my slip. Instantly the water was gone. A small smile reached me. The more magic I was in contact with the better.

I'd always seen magic as a true friend, a deeply sewn part of my being that could never let me down. I took in haste to get back into my clothes. As I buttoned up my blouse I frowned when I realized the dirt beneath my finger nails remained. I'd have to wash that off as soon as possible. When I jerked the cream colored curtain open to leave, I was alone.

"Bastard…" I mumbled going over to the taps on the far wall, opposite the door. A stream of cool water washed away the dirt and the still clinging heat of warm bathwater. My senses devoured the fresh feeling. Such a far cry from those disgusting greenhouses and the dirty blood of a muggle-born. My frown only grew deeper as my thoughts dwelled on what had just taken place and I threw my robes on over my uniform.

I heard light footsteps just ahead of me the whole way down to the dungeons but I lagged behind purposely. I was in no hurry to be back in Riddle's company. My excuse was obvious: he had too much nerve for a mudblood. But though I refused to admit it, the real reason I felt safer on my own than with a certain prefect was because he scared me. He knew something I did not, he was too confident and for some reason he could get to me. Barely and not for very long, but the reality was that he'd still shaken me up and I would not give him the chance again.

The walk seemed longer because of the dark, empty halls which were shadowed heavily by scarce torchlight. An eagerness to be back in the dungeons was ever present in my mind. Finally I reached the grand staircase and the entrance hall. I was beginning to feel fatigued again, just how late was it? Quick footsteps took me through the dungeons and to my common room. Ah, green light all around and a fireplace pulsing with dry heat. A grandfather clock stared me down like an angry parent. It was a quarter to eleven.

"What in God's bloody name were you doing with "

I couldn't help but roll my eyes before turning to Gregory. Because the great roaring I had just endured had indeed been the sound of my boyfriend who had obviously stayed up to wait for me. How much like my mother could he get?

"What was I doing with whom exactly? Because Professor Frondeus is after all the Herbology instructor, and I was after all serving my detention in the greenhouses. That is generally Frondeus' area of expertise, is it not?"

His nostrils flared as he huffed. "I meant Riddle…Why were you with ?"

I surveyed him calmly. "He's a prefect, he was only walking me back from detention. It's well past curfew as I'm sure you realize. He was sent to"-

"Stop _lying_ to me, are you to hurt me?"

"Cut the melodramatics." my nose crinkled up in disgust as I crossed my arms over my chest, "What all did he tell you?"

"He told me you were with him in the prefect's bath." Gregory growled. He could be so insolent sometimes.

"What were his words _exactly_?" If I could even think about covering this up I had to know what I was working with. _'Keep your lies consistent.' _my mother's voice rang in my head.

"He came in, I asked if he had seen you and he chuckled and said he'd seen quite a bit of you. I asked him what he meant as he casually walked towards his dormitory and he told me you had been with him in the prefect's bath. And then traipse in."

"Well, he lied." I shrugged, walking past him.

"Did he? Explain to me then why your hair is not styled." He followed me with out pretense.

"Obviously the moisture must have gotten to it. Greenhouses trap heat, which is what they are designed for."

"Oh moisture indeed, it's half wet." He ran a hand over it and then came down and grabbed my own hand. "No dirt from the weeding I see."

"I rinsed it off before I left; you know how I am about dirt."

"I_ thought_ I knew how you were about dirt but if you're hanging about with dirty blood like that"-

"Shut-up. You have no idea _what_ you're talking about. Go to bed Gregory. Just go to bed."

Alright, so Tom had captured my attention for a few minutes. I had quite been planning on him never doing it again. But he did.

Two weeks later we were sitting in Visions and Pursuits, which was sort of an interesting mesh of politics and history. The class was rather advanced and most students who signed up were either in Slytherin or Ravenclaw. As Halloween approached we finally got around to talking about the biggest political debate of the times: the Dark Lord Grindelwald. The Slytherins had been anxious to get around to him; we all found his tactical genius and political nerve rather fascinating. The Ravenclaws thought we were all sick and power-hungry. We thought they were all pansies.

"Now, class, though there is dispute on the ideals Grindelwald holds in high esteem, I believe we can all agree that he is statedly evil."

Of course, the prefect had to raise his hand and say something.

"Honestly does he always have an opinion about ?" I whispered to Celeste Caldwell, my best friend, who was seated beside me. She only nodded before rolling her eyes.

"Yes, Thomas would you like to add something?" Professor Exedra looked across the room and smiled at her star pupil.

"Actually, I do hope you don't find me rude. However, I must disagree with you."

Her smile ebbed just a little.

"Really?" she choked back a laugh, "Would you mind defending your argument?"

"It is only that you say the Dark Lord is evil. To be evil is to be completely corrupt."

"Isn't he? He goes about killing people for no reason!" a Ravenclaw boy exclaimed. A few choruses of agreement were heard on their side. They seemed utterly offended. Tom coolly turned to the class.

"He doesn't harm without purpose. That would be exceedingly unintelligent."

"So what your opinion Tom? If not evil, then what?" Professor Exedra looked at him eager for an explanation. He turned his attention back to the front of the room but allowed his voice to be loud enough so the Ravenclaws could easily hear their defeat.

"I believe he simply understands that to have power one must be ruthless. Certain… necessary harms must be inflicted in order to obtain a certain goal."

"How can be a necessary harm?"

Tom turned once more to the boy who again challenged his opinion with ignorance.

"Clearly you do not understand war tactics." He bit off before turning back around.

"Clearly you do not understand humanity." I heard the boy murmur to his friends. I glared at them.

"agree with Riddle." I spoke up clearly.

Many 'So do I.'s could be heard from the Slytherins.

"Sometimes a sacrifice must be made and if one is truly serious about reaching one's goal, sacrifice should not be a problem. It isn't Tom's fault none of you have real ambition." I hissed.

Class ended with a serious tension in the air that I honestly could not have enjoyed more. As we filed out towards the Great Hall for lunch I was gently pulled away from the stream of people bursting forth into the corridors.

"I wanted to say thank you for defending me." Riddle…again.

I kept walking, avoiding his gaze, but he only followed.

"I was not defending you…I was simply showing up the Ravenclaws."

"Well I thank you all the same."

"Alright then." My tone was airy and I was hoping he would catch on that I did not want him around. I'd be meeting up with my friends for lunch any minute and the last thing I needed was to be seen with such riffraff.

"Generally when someone says 'thank you', the proper response would be 'you're welcome'."

"Yes and generally when someone is ignored the proper response is to take the hint, so I suppose we are both guilty of social faux pas."

"Your boyfriend certainly seems to think we are."

I stopped and turned on him.

"How dare you. You had no right to even tell him what happened." I refrained from yelling, keeping my voice down and my tone bitter.

"Might I remind you that I am a prefect? I had every right to tell him."

"Well, you shouldn't have."

"Why? You must feel at least a little liberation."

He was right but I certainly didn't feel the need to inform him. Before he walked off he smirked.

"The next time you feel the need to re-sort me, just remember: A real Gryffindor would have never taken such satisfaction in telling him."


	3. Breaking Silence, Breaking Up

A/n: Myrtle's last name was totally made up. Yay.

**Ch. 2: Breaking Silence, Breaking Up**

I met up with my friends and we walked to the Great hall together. No words about Riddle were exchanged, or my tardy company. Parsnip stew greeted us at our table.

_'Ugh, parsnips.__ Rabbit food__…'_ I thought. Staying only long enough to hear the latest gossip, I was off for the bathrooms sooner than usual. Everyday during the end of lunch I would go to the girls' bathroom on the first floor to freshen up before class. I was forever fixing my appearance in a mirror. Vanity could have been my hobby.

I have to admit though, I enjoyed being on my own for a little while. Only today I was not on my own. My eyes couldn't help but roll when I heard a familiar sobbing.

_'First Amelia, now Myrtle __?'_

Myrtle Miser was a blubbering cow of a girl who gave real meaning to the muggle witch reference 'hag'. All she ever did was cry and whine and throw pity parties for herself. And here she was invading _my_ bathroom time on top of it.

_'__Such an embarrassment to the school…__'_

Her sobbing continued. Turning from the mirrors that hung over the taps, I called over my shoulder:

"Myrtle whatever it is that you're going on about this time, would you mind doing it a bit quieter? I_ a__m_ trying to wash up." Not only did my request _not _cause her to shut-up, her decibel level actually increased. I yet again rolled my eyes, gripping the white porcelain sink beneath my well manicured nails.

"Leave me alone!" she cried, a harshly revolting sound followed that told me she'd blown her nose. That was it. I turned and stalked over to the stall in which she was sulking.

"Look, I'm not asking much. Only that you keep your damn racket down a bit. The walls are causing it to echo and you've no idea what a headache you're giving me." I bit off in a frustrated huff. This was not the perfect little brown noser she saw in class (when the Slytherins were paired with the Hufflepuffs) and I believe I alarmed her somewhat. Never the less, she didn't hesitate to snap back.

"I-I'm in more pain than you and your blasted headache."

"Excuse me? I'm one of the few people who leaves you alone in the hallways. And you think you can talk to me like that, you pathetic little"-

"Mud-blood?" A cool voice echoed behind us.

"Thomas? So this is why you don't come to lunch…you're patrolling the girls' bathrooms?" I didn't quite laugh. I didn't have to, my tone did it for me.

"What are _you _doing here? You're a boy." Myrtle sniveled before Tom could even reply.

"News flash." I snorted, yet again rolling my eyes at her simple mind.

"I heard crying and some yelling. I hope you haven't been bullying her up too much, Lydie." He smiled at me. From the look of that smile it seemed Thomas hadn't come in here for Myrtle. Not that I blamed him.

"Quite the contrary, _she_ was mouthing off." I spared a glare at the pathetic creature still huddled on the floor.

_'How disgusting.'_ I thought. You couldn't have paid me to sit on a floor. And that was saying something.

Tom leaned to look around me, hands clasped behind his back.

"Myrtle perhaps you should go get cleaned up. Class starts in about ten minutes, I would never want your classmates to say something nasty to you." I was surprised to hear the subtle sarcasm in his remark and it rather amused me.

Myrtle stood and smiled at Golden Boy in a manor that I suppose was meant to be sweet. He met her with an acknowledging nod. I however received a scowl from the annoying little prat as she scampered off. Massaging my temple, I turned to Tom.

"She had something of a point you know. What are you doing in the girls' bathroom? Certainly not just checking on _her_."

"It_ is_ my duty to do so…whether I like it or not." He grimaced over his shoulder at the exit before turning back to me.

"Hmm, no doubt racking up more brownie points?"

He shrugged, "She's a whiner. Someday she may decide to go to the headmaster about all the teasing. Why get in trouble with the rest when I can use it to my advantage later?"

"I see, be nice to the weaklings to please the pitying powerful."

"Precisely." He beamed proudly. Men are so cute when they think they're being smug.

"Is there anything you good at?"

"You, from the sound of your tone." His comment held just as much snark as mine had. Good to know he could keep up.

"That, and finding your way into the right bathrooms." I smirked.

"I told you I was on duty. I had actually just come from the library"-

"Oh, so is where you go during lunch?"

"Yes, if you must know."

"Even more ambitious than I thought."

"You know what they say, knowledge is power."

Without realizing it, I cocked my head to the side slightly. He had just used a favorite phrase of my father's.

The tolling of the bells interrupted my thoughts and signaled that we had no more than five minutes to get to class. I made for the door, pausing on my way only to get in a last word.

"Best study hard then." Patting his shoulder, I left.

* * *

A tiny chink of shattering porcelain caused everyone to turn around. A boy who claimed to be three years my junior, but was more than three times my size, was suddenly the center of attention. Our discerning gazes held no pity as a blush captured his dirty face and he leaned over.

"Sorry 'bout tha'." gathering the remains of his china tea cup in his enormous hands Rubeus Hagrid suffered yet another embarrassing blunder with as much dignity as he could muster. He pretended as though he could not see our disapproving glances and cleaned up the mess in silence as any other Gryffindor would have been expected to do. I pursed my lips, holding back laughter as I turned back to my friends.

Rubeus was half giant and we liked him even less than we liked Myrtle. He was constantly trying to bring dangerous beasts into the castle. I'd even heard a rumor that he'd tried to raise werewolf cubs under his bed once. How he had ever thought they would go unnoticed is beyond me. As far as I knew werewolves were pretty bloodthirsty brutes. My guess is that, even if he somehow kept them hidden, they would have traipsed out and bitten the entire Gryffindor common room occupancy. Not that this would have been a bad thing.

Anyways, he was being his usual blundering self during Halloween tea in the Great Hall, knocking over cups and such. Somehow I wanted to feel bad for him. But with a mother who was a murdering giantess, it was hard to find mercy in my already cold heart.

"Charming, that one." sneered Gregory, shaking his head as he went to sip his tea. Yes, there was no denying he was a Slytherin, even if he _did_ act like a Huffelpuff half the time.

"Honestly, I don't know how he's managed to not get himself expelled by now. All those blithering creatures. It isn't safe having him around." Jonathan frowned down and across the tables in Rubeus's direction. He was Gregory's best friend, which was the only reason we really knew one another. That and he had been dating Celeste for over a year. They were both blonde and possibly more sickenly cute together than Greg and me.

"It's Professor Dumbledore, I'm telling you." I spoke up, still somewhat annoyed with my transfiguration teacher. He was the only teacher who didn't favor Tom Riddle either, and that made all of us believe he discriminated against the Slytherins. As annoying as the mudblood was, there was no denying his brilliance. And yet Professor Dumbledore chose to dote on pathetic messes such as Hagrid. "He _loves_ the troll for some reason." I murmured my disgust discretely.

"It's because he's in Gryffindor. Why else?" Greg reminded us all in a bitter tone, dipping some biscotti in his tea and biting off the soggy chunk that emerged thereafter. "He could get away with murder if it was up to witty, old Dumbles."

"It gets worse than Hagrid, don't forget." Jonathan grimaced deeply, dipping his head mildly to the left. We snuck in our glances one at a time. Riddle was at the end of John's gesture talking quietly with his mates. Odd bunch they were, but at least they normally kept to themselves.

"Some of the people at this school…" Celeste sighed, shaking her head disapprovingly. Greg gave us a hollow laugh that caught me off guard.

"Lydia doesn't mind Riddle so much, do you love?" his eyes flashed over at me and as I swallowed I felt the breath in my lungs smother away. My friends stared for a moment, waiting for some kind of explanation before looking back at Greg. He was more than happy to satisfy their interest.

"Our darling little angel decided to go and have a look at the prefect's bath the other night"-

"It was over two weeks ago." I growled. He kept talking as if I had not.

"With who, but our Slytherin Prefect himself." my so-called boyfriend finished, his unspoken code of silence broken. What had taken so long for the story to come spilling out? It was obvious that it had been building up for a while.

"I didn't realize what was going on"-

"Lydia how could you? His father is a ." Celeste looked almost hurt, as if I were dating her as a posed to Gregory.

"That is the vilest thing I've heard all school year." Jonathon's frown had yet to cease and he had leaned back in his seat, seemingly appalled.

"It's only October." I reminded him in an annoyed tone.

"Well, my Halloween's ruined." Celeste got up and left the table. My best friend actually walked away from me. Her boyfriend followed suit. Greg's revenge was complete.

Half the Slytherin table was watching the entire episode. I sent a repulsed and offended glance across the table at Greg before getting up to leave as well.

"I hope you feel better." I threw down my napkin and walked out.

After leaving the Great Hall, I had no idea where I was supposed to go. Slytherin House was ruled out because God only knew that Jonathan and Celeste were huddled up in there. I fiddled with the idea of going outside but didn't quite feel like basking in afternoon sunshine at the moment. I felt like sulking and having a good long brood, as pathetic as that sounded.

_'Sulking…' _This led to memories of a particularly sulky person I knew: Myrtle. The girls' bathroom worked well enough for her, perhaps if I shut the door properly (unlike her, who was stolid enough to leave it open when she cried) and sat up on the top of the white, porcelain cover so my feet were hidden I could stay locked up in there until the Halloween Feast. By then Celeste and John would have to go to the Great Hall and my path to the dormitories would be clear. This plan actually almost worked, almost…

"Lydia?" I swear Tom was the most persistent person I had ever met. My hand had just closed around the bathroom door, too. Damn you Tom, damn you all to hell.

I turned only to show off a look that said _'__You__ had better have a good reason for stopping me in the middle of something, you assiduous bastard.' _

"I believe I'm completely in bounds going to the loo, thank-you."

"Yes, you are right." he dared a few steps closer, acting as though trying to stop a suicidal crazy from plunging herself off a cliff. "I saw what happened back there."

A bitter laugh in the form of a snort sounded from my nose.

"You and the rest of the entire, bloody House..."

"I just thought, instead of shutting yourself up all afternoon and breeding more distain for your boyfriend…perhaps you might take a walk with me? Take your frustration out on a real source, as apposed to bottling it up."

"Why…?" He had proved himself a Slytherin and in the process lost my trust of his motives. His smile was small, but he had a look of knowing his words would have their desired effect.

"Because you look like you need it."

"Is that your twisted idea of an inside joke?" My words hardly reflected my thoughts. The feeling of something crawling inside my brain and biting into my senses came again. It hit my stomach this time as well, winding up knots and making it hard to think properly. Or look at him properly without wincing for that matter. All of this made me seriously want to go with him, for the sake of not being alone when my insides decided to stop working or explode or something.

His hand came gently around my shoulder again and I felt the support of his arms.

"Stop fighting so hard." he whispered. Only my subconscious could fully comprehend his words and it thoroughly obeyed. My concentration was fully set on his voice and my own breathing. The tightness in my stomach had settled. The drowsiness however remained. "There you see, it doesn't need to be so rough, just let me lead you…" and he did.

The hallways and bright sunshine were blurring together. I'm not sure how long it took me to realize that the window light had been replaced by torchlight, but by then we had to be underground. For a second my scattered thoughts wondered if I would be missed. Then the cold feeling of betrayal came back. I didn't want my friends, didn't need them. I would be better off with Tom.

"What did he do to you?" the low murmur in my ear could have been a dream. A frown graced my features and it took me a few moments to muster a reply.

"He told my friends about what we did. How I went to the prefects' bath with you after curfew." I didn't even have to think about what to say, it just came out exactly the way I had felt it.

"Did you not want them to find out?" He kept me talking, kept my consciousness alive just enough so I was still with him. Though I hardly realized that at the time.

"Of course not." No tone in my voice…was it just my imagination, or was the passageway becoming smaller?

"And why not?" He had to have known the answer to that, but he asked anyway. Wanting to hear me state the reasons out loud. Oddly enough, lying to him didn't even cross my mind, only finding an answer.

"They could not know. You have dirty blood. Filthy muggle blood. People like me do not associate with people like you. We have kept to that tradition too long to break it now."

"And yet here we are." he was sneering. Whether it was because he was amused or satisfied I didn't have the capacity to differentiate.

"I know."

"You have begun to tolerate my company. Somewhere in your mind you are intrigued with me."

"Yes." Our game of entertaining insult, having become rather frequent as of late, was something I hated to admit that I enjoyed. He showed me a special kind of attention I wasn't quite used to. Our banter was my only stimulus in a world I was getting bored with more by the day.

"You even wish I had pure wizarding blood sometimes."

"Yes."

He sighed, "So do I, my dear Lydie, so do I."

We stopped outside of something shadowed. Tom pulled out his wand, still keeping a hand on my shoulder. I couldn't make out what he said, but it sounded like a low mumble or perhaps even a different language. Maybe some trapping of Latin I had yet to learn.

We stepped over the threshold into a circular room. The crackling fire burned bright green in its grate, seemingly coming alight only as we walked in. The furniture was all slightly moth-eaten and worn down. Finally his hand left my shoulder.

As if he had been feeding a life force into my body and suddenly stopped, my legs wobbled and I collapsed across the cold, stone floor. My eyes could stay open no longer, but even as they closed I could not sleep. My ears prickled at the sound of his low chuckle a few feet away.

It took longer than it should have for the feeling of his support to return as I was lifted onto the only sofa in the room. I wanted so much to move, but my muscles were useless in their desperate protest.

"You _are_ feisty, aren't you?" he laughed. He was back where he had gone to leave me the first time. "Why do you fight so much? I will not harm you Lydie, you have nothing to fear."

I heard a hiss and felt cold, leathery muscles contracting and slithering beside my body.

Shivering, I opened my eyes. There was a large snake, at least the length of my body, lying beside me. A rush of adrenaline finally allowed me to move and I sat up, moving away from it as it "sniffed" me, wriggling its tongue for my scent on the air.

"A Slytherin afraid of a snake? You must be joking." He laughed again before taking the snake away. It was in his arms now, obviously his pet. Why was it hidden down here?

"Not afraid…just startled." I argued in my defense.

"Let us hope so." Before letting the snake free on the floor, he spoke to it. However, his words were not in English. Nor were they in French, or Dragon Language or anything that could be taught at Hogwarts. Tom Riddle, the mud blood orphan and annoyingly perfect prefect was a parselmouth.

My eyes went as wide as they could. I was shaking mildly.

"So why you're in Slytherin." I mumbled.

"You could say that." He took his seat beside me. Groggily, I looked around, still trying hard to sit up straight.

"Where are we?" None of this was familiar, but I liked it for some reason.

"You know of Salazar Slytherin, obviously. But do you know of the secret rooms, passageways and chambers he carved into this school's structure?"

"He only left the Chamber of Secrets behind, and that hasn't been found by anyone, least of all a mudblood." my conscious sense had come back and I was free to say what ever I wanted him to hear. Though the fact that it had ever been impaired was not in my memory yet. As I tried to recall how I'd gotten down here all I could conjure up was nearly collapsing on the first floor, near the girls' lavatory.

"He left more than that behind. This is one of his study chambers. His private office you might say." Tom sounded awfully proud of _himself_ while talking about Slytherin's accomplishments.

"You mean…he was He's been in this very room, touched these walls, sat in these chairs?" Instantly I was enamored. Salazar Slytherin was the only person I had ever put on a pedestal. I idolized him.

"Quite."

"So how is that some one like you came to find it?"

"I am much more ambitious than you could possibly imagine." his stance was friendly, easy-going, harmless.

"I'm starting to see that…" I tried clearing my throat, but my entire mouth was dry. "You wouldn't have anything to drink, would you?"

I was met with a sweating goblet of chilled, white wine. Crisp and clean it slid down my throat leaving a softly burning trail.

"Thank-you." As I took another peckish sip, I wished I could gulp but I would never. My mother hadn't forced proper etiquette into my brain pattern for no reason, "Where did you get such a frivolous indulgence?"

"It was here when I found the room. It's enchanted to never empty, nor grow warm." In accordance with his claims, the goblet was full again when I looked down.

"Alright, I'm impressed…but why am I here?" my strength was slowly coming back. The wine had helped that along brilliantly.

His smirk remained steadfast, even growing somewhat. Tom's eyes reflected the enchanted green flames that roared just a few feet behind me.

"You looked like you needed it."

This time, I could not find it in me to grow annoyed. He had been right either way, because I _had_ needed it. At least that's what I was convinced of. Besides, I was away from Greg, I was again alone with Tom (which was an opportunity I had secretly been hoping I would someday have once more), I had wine and I was in a hidden chamber that had once belonged to my idol. I wasn't exactly in any position to be complaining.

"I know what bothers you."

I stared fixedly into his eyes, silent.

"Why do you stay with him? Why do you allow him to control your actions? You tolerate it from no one else." his hand was on my knee. The way he was looking at me, I had a hard time being suspicious of his motives. It was obvious Tom was looking out for my best interests. Perhaps he had a crush on me.

"I have to stay with him. My parents"-

"Your parents? You're allowing your parents to control you? I would never have imagined, not from you. You're too independent, too strong."

"They're my parents, Tom! You have no idea what it's like, you're an orphan."

He took a deep breath. I wondered if I was imagining the look of frustrated malice that crossed his eyes.

"I know , I know you're better than him." his teeth were practically gritted as he spoke, moving his hand from my knee to my hand.

"Trust me, I know it too." I smirked.

"Then break up with him Lydie. He doesn't deserve you. You shouldn't put yourself through a relationship with no grace…no real love."

His other hand found my cheek.

"Love isn't my aim." I laid my own hand over his and removed it from my face, shaking my head sadly.

"Then what is? Independence? Power? I know that is what you want. I know there are times when you can't stand to be with him. He's too weak, too much like the Gryffindors and Huffelpuffs you despise."

"This goes so much deeper than what I want." I responded, trying to make him see.

"Only because you let it." He said, removing his hand from around mine.

* * *

"Why is he an orphan?" My hands absently toyed with the family crest charm hanging on a silver chain about my neck. My eyes were staring clear across the unusually quiet room as everyone did some last bits of homework the following Sunday night.

"What?" Gregory looked up from his homework as we sat around the table nearest the fire in our common room a few nights later. I had already finished my work and was lounging across one of the many jade couches. Despite the fire's warm orange light, the room was cold with pride and guile. For the first time in a good twenty minutes I acknowledged my boyfriends presence with my gaze.

"Riddle…why is he an orphan? Does any one know?" I asked.

"Why do you care?" he snorted, going back to his parchment.

I sat up straight, "You can be so boring, you know that? Perhaps I was just trying to make conversation."

"About mudbloods? Honestly Lydia, I'm trying to do my work." his eyes stayed on his parchment, ignoring me. His voice had given a clear air of annoyance.

Sighing, I threw myself back into my previous position and indulged my eyes in what they really wanted to study. Tom's own orbs were mad with urgency as he scribbled fervently. His forehead crinkled in thought every now and again. He had an annoying tendency of licking his finger before turning pages. Somehow I found myself tolerating this behavior and soon I was savoring it, waiting just to see him do it.

Ever since Tom had showed me around the encasements of Hogwarts, namely Slytherin's old hangout, I was finding it difficult to ease my frequent thoughts of him. Tom, not Salazar. Perhaps unfaithful guilt would have been more appropriate, but my newfound distance rather _bothered_Gregory and I could only revel in that fact at the moment.

Celeste had always gushed over Greg's bright smile, his muscular build, his 'sweet' protectiveness over me. Hmph, and she called herself my best friend. She saw only what I wanted her to. And sometimes only what _she_ wanted to. Tom saw through Greg and maybe even a little through me. When he stirred up trouble and lured the snark out of me, he knew exactly what he was doing and he enjoyed it. And suddenly I knew why I did too. His arrogant smugness, brilliance and cunning were everything that Gregory lacked.

I looked back at Gregory. We had been together for a year thanks to our parents. He of course came from old money and my father liked that; possibly quite a bit more than he liked Gregory himself. He was nice, in a 'just-nice-not-great-or-anything' sort of way. At first I really enjoyed sneaking him away for a snog because I knew I could count on him to put up a fight about breaking the rules. However, before long his resistance was just pure whining and I soon grew tired of it.

Tom was right. Whatever I wanted, it wasn't my boyfriend.

"Gregory, we need to talk."


	4. Embers and Envelopes

Dearest Dude-monkey: Thanks so much for your review. That makes two and I truly appreciate your allegiance. However, Rubeus Hagrid was in fact a Gryffindor. I looked it up at the Harry Potter Lexicon. Thanks again, though. ;) And a big thanks to everyone else who has reviewed! Especially Piper of Locksley!

Y.O.A Year of Admittance Y.O.G Year of Graduation

**Ch. 3: Embers and Envelopes**

The neat black ink scrawled across my mother's light blue stationary envelope reflected the emitting candle-light of the desk I sat at in Slytherin's common room a week later. Every now and again my eyes couldn't help but dart over at the envelope I had received that morning at breakfast. On that note, meals were turning into a nightmare. My friends and I were barely on speaking terms and Greg was merely tolerating my company.

This was more or less caused by the fact that Greg and I were not dating any more. And that was exactly why my mother had written to me. She was too poised to send a howler, but I could tell she had wanted to. I had known my parents were going to be highly disappointed with my actions before I even performed them. They had been hoping to announce my betrothal at a large Christmas party that very year, the company of which had already been invited.

Still, even as I knew what the contents held, I had yet to open it. I was scared of the icy plunge of reality that would hit me when I received my mother's retributions. Disappointing my parents was something I strived to avoid. How I regretted ever telling Gregory I could no longer stand his company. Even if it was the truth.

Yet a strange feeling, one I labeled 'my rebellious streak', was relieved and happy for the change. I was free of a mounting pressure I had suddenly felt the weight of a week ago. Two days after I broke things off with Greg, he'd actually had the nerve to come up to me in the common room while I was working.

"Is this about Riddle?" his arms were crossed and he was frowning. Clearly Jonathan had been feeding him ideas and Greg had been hesitant to buy into them. He wanted proof, a straight answer **_straight _**from my mouth.

"I broke up with you because of you Greg." I told him matter-of-factly. "You and your annoying, aggravating, pathetic personality. I couldn't stand being with you. **_That's _**what it was about." I bit off before going back to my texts. He had curtly turned and left. Looking across the room, I had caught Tom's eye. He had winked at me before dipping his quill in his ink bottle and setting off to scribbling again.

My concentration was officially gone. There wasn't an ounce of focus left in my restless veins. My spine eased into the back of the chair I sat at and I brought my mother's letter into my hands. After staring for a good few moments, I slipped my finger under the flap on the back and tore the navy blue wax seal. The thin paper unfolded easily between my fingers. I thought I was surely going to vomit, so concerned was I that Gregory must have let it slip about the Prefects' Bath. I would be disowned if they ever knew the company I was keeping as of late.

I could feel Celeste and them watching me. A glance over my shoulder verified this. Her gaze dropped and she shook her head disapprovingly, sending her curls a sway. Back to the tidy, black script in my lap.

_Dearest Lydia,_

_It has come to our attention by way of Gregory's parents that your relationship has ended. The boy claims this is your doing. Your father and I are desperately searching for answers as to why you would shame our family so. Your father almost came up to the castle himself to sit you down and tell you of his concerns. Need I remind you how vital that boy is to your future? He is wealthy and he comes from a respected pureblooded family. He is handsome and your age, you should feel lucky. Most girls are forced to marry men much older than themselves who have lost their charms to such discrepancies as habit of alcohol, rage and old age. Gregory all but worshipped the ground you walked on. How dare you insult him and his family like this! And without consulting either of your parents! You have never acted out against us in such a manor and it will not be tolerated. As I write this, your father is desperately trying to reconcile relations with the boys' parents. You will marry him whether you want to or not. Our kind are hard to find these days and as your parents we believe we did a fine job picking a suitor for you. We still love you dearly, and you must understand we do this for your own good. Even my marriage to your father was arranged. Do not make the same mistake as your Aunt Winifred. She married a muggle and to this day no longer uses magic nor is she allowed access to the manor that was promised her by her father, your grandfather. Again, we only want the best for you._

_Love and Salutations,_

_Mother_

Relief softened the entirety of my system for a few moments crystallized in time. They didn't know about Tom. I waited, my mind wincing, waiting for the rest of harsh reality to rip into me.

My mother was ashamed. My father was enraged. I was still going to marry Gregory. I had embarrassed my family. Gregory's parents now disliked me. My friends still couldn't believe I was the same person who had been willing to agree with Grindelwald's persecutions.

It wasn't just guilt that followed these reminders, but a prickling new priority being made of talking to Tom. What on godly earth he could say to help me, I had not a clue. He didn't have parents, he wasn't pureblooded and he wasn't…well he just wasn't me. But I needed someone to listen to me, to hold me.

I went up to bed early, discretely leaving a torn bit of parchment on the desk at which Tom was working.

_Don't go up, I'll be back down later. I need to talk to you

* * *

_

My shower was longer than usual, weighed down by thoughts that refused to stop circulating. I was half haunted by anxiety and half desperate to get Tom out of my head.

When I emerged, wrapped in a viridian terry cloth towel I was startled to find company waiting for me outside of the shower stall. Steam clung to the tiled walls and I wanted to get out into the fresh cool air of my dorm. Celeste's presence insured that this would not be an easy accomplishment.

When I first saw her standing there, she'd frightened me so horribly I'd gasped. Now sighing in respite I watched her stand stock still, arms crossed over her chest, a look of disapproving worry on her pretty face.

"Lydia, I'm very worried about you."

"Funny, the feeling seemed more like anger." I told her softly. The steady _drip, drip _of water falling from my drenched hair was the only other sound in the room.

"It was, for a while. But I **_can't_** just watch you ruin your life like we were never friends."

"Is that why you've been ignoring me for a week?"

"I haven't ignored you"-

"Liar."

"I learned from the best." she smirked, hoping I'd soften up. I did.

"You sure did." I smiled, but only just.

"We only thought… that you would come back to us if you thought Riddle might cost you your friends…when you broke up with Gregory I knew I was wrong. I knew you were going to be just as independent as you had ever been."

"'Bout time." I chided.

She nodded thoughtfully, "Please stop talking to him. I couldn't stand it the other day at the feast when you were both missing. I knew you were with him again. It makes me want to be sick Lydia, please." she was begging. The only time I had ever known Celeste to beg was when she was persuading her parents to buy something for her.

Not having an answer she would accept, I pushed past her and into our dorm.

* * *

Around eleven I was back in the common room. The room sparkled with dark treasures that watched in decoration. Shadows were more available to my eyes than the light, even as candles burned to within an inch of their lives. Alone and still at work sat Riddle in a far corner of the room. The candlelight softened his pale features and made his eyes flicker. The fire was almost dead and the crackling embers were matched only by the scratching of Tom's feather quill. It was shoddy and needed replacing. The white tufts were dirty and stuck together and he had to dip for ink much more frequently than I ever had to.

I took my seat across him, on the opposite side of the desk he was working at.

"I'm so pleased you broke up with Gregory." he told me in a tone that suggested he was proud. Whether of himself or me, I didn't know. Nor did I care.

"My best friend just begged me to stay away from you." I told him dully. He dipped his quill in his ink bottle again, still working.

"And yet here you are."

"I told you, I needed to talk to you."

"About what pray tell? Surely not Celeste."

His mention of her name hurt for a reason I couldn't place.

"No…" I handed him my mother's letter. For the first time his gaze lifted. Meeting my eyes for a split second before, Tom read the letter without delay. I watched his eyes all but blur as they flew over the paper. A mudblood was holding my mother's stationary…and I had been the one to hand it to him.

He folded the letter back up and held it up beside one of the four candles on his desk. The flame instantly caught and I was left watching in wide eyed, silent shock. Before it could reach his long, thin fingers the burning bit of parchment was thrown into the nearby fire.

Recovering my self I spoke.

"Wh-why did you do that?"

"To stop you from reading it over and over countless times only to increase the amount of guilt currently weighing on your shoulders." again he dipped his quill.

"Oh…" his reasoning made perfect sense, but his actions were still somewhat shocking.

"What would you like to chat about then?"

"Anything, I just need to talk to someone. My friends have been ignoring me and I'm not even sure I want to talk to them anyway. Oh, I was actually wondering something, what ever happened to your parents?"

His scratching stopped and he looked up at me.

"Pardon?"

"Your parents." his look remained blank, "Come off it, everyone knows you're an orphan. I can't help but wonder what happened. Did they leave you or did they die?"

"Both actually," he dipped his quill once more and continued his work as he spoke, stopping to plunge for ink between words. "My father…married my mother and they conceived me…but my father left when he found out that my mother…was a witch…"

"What happened to her then?"

"She was the one…who died…while giving…birth…God blast this ruddy quill!" he threw it down in frustration. Getting up, I went over to my bag and pulled a brand new plume from its depths. I walked back over and handed it to him.

"Here, it's brand new, it should work fine."

His look was one of curiosity as he took the shiny, black feather from my hand.

"Thank-you." obviously my newfound openness towards him was a surprise. He dipped it and wrote for about a minute before speaking up again, "A month ago you would have never done that." he said quietly.

"I wouldn't have done that a **_week _**ago. But you've been good to me Thomas, in a time when my friends won't even be." I forgot to remember that this was because of Riddle in the first place.

"I'm still a mudblood you know."

"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten. But you've gotten off topic. I want to know about your parents, Tom."

"There's really nothing to know."

"What was your father's name?"

"Tom Riddle, just like me." he sighed.

"Why would your mother"-

"I have no idea, alright. Personally I wish she hadn't, but she did. She named me after the man who killed her. There's nothing to be done." his words were rushed and full of annoyance. As far as I knew the last time I had annoyed anyone accidentally was when I was three. It was part of my brain pattern to avoid such black marks.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it isn't your fault."

"No, I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"You were curious, that's nothing you can help."

"You don't like your father much, do you?" After a few moments of silent contemplation I was at it again.

"He left me and my mother for dead. Somehow, I just can't bring myself to like him much, no."

"What was _her_ name?"

Again he looked up at me.

"Why are you so interested by my parents?"

I shrugged, "They're a part of you…and they're a mystery. All any one knows is that you're an orphan. For all I knew your mother could have been a virgin and you could have been the messiah. I'm just curious. I'd been thankful if I were you, most people in this house aren't too keen to make conversation with you."

"What makes you think I want them to?"

"You know, it used to be I could never get you to shut-up." I smiled wryly.

"Alright, alright." My smile was contagious, "Her name was Sarai."

"Did she go to Hogwarts too?"

"Oh yes."

"And she was in Slytherin as well?"

"She better have been." he mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

A heavy breath left his lips as he turned a page.

"She came from a pureblooded family, so I can only hope she was. Though judging from her…embarrassing variety of choice, I'm forced to wonder."

This kept me silent for a few more minutes as I contemplated. A plan formulated in my thoughts and with nothing left to say until tomorrow, I left my chair. I turned at the stairs.

"Good night Tom."

Still, he wouldn't bother to tear his eyes away from his parchment.

"Night Lydie, sleep well."

* * *

The following afternoon I found myself in the library pouring over old records. This was completely off task, as I had two reports to finish, one of which was to be three feet long. My mind however was reeling over the possibilities of Tom's blood line.

It was foolish and it was a waste of my time. But it was what I wanted to do and that was of course all that mattered to a pampered princess such as myself. Besides, I could always just skip dinner and stay up late to finish my essays. If the mudblood prefect could do it, so could I.

The fifth book I found was by far the most useful. It was dusty and thin but incredibly large. The volume had to be at least a foot and a half tall and a good 12 inches across. Thin as it was, heavy it still proved to be and as I finally approached the window side table I'd found near the secluded back I was anxious to relieve my lanky fingers. Sparkling in the day light, a shadow of dust rose as the hardcover fell onto my desk. A last look around me made sure everyone else's attention was diverted as I pulled out a chair and took my seat. Scooting as close as I could get to the table, the tips of my fingers wrested away the worn cover. Past the title page was nothing but hand written records in long tables that reached out so far they didn't even have borders. Every student who had come to Hogwarts from 1815-1915. If I was looking for Tom's mother, she should be near the middle of the second half somewhere. The only information I had were my calculations of Tom being born in 1927 and the assumption that his mother had been in Slytherin.

The only separation the text took was in division of house. So, flipping past Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, I decided to work my way forward from the year 1890. The years were listed after people's names with the admittance year scribbled between surname and graduation year. Scanning the list for a good twenty pages I realized I was lost without her last name, as classes were listed alphabetically.

For a few moments I sat still, mulling over my next move.

I wouldn't ask Tom. After all I wasn't a Slytherin for nothing, it would be my determination that would help me here. Yes, I would simply look for the name Sarai. I had my work cut out for me, but at least Sarai wasn't a terribly common name.

The sun moved across the sky, candle's were lit when it started to set and my eyes only grew darker with every page I turned. My hair was oily from my hand having run through it so many bloody times and my eyes were bloodshot in a rather nasty fashion.

The knelling of the bells told me it wasn't long after six in the evening when my glazed eyes found what they were hungry for.

_Surname:Name:Y.O.A:Y.O.G_

_Slytherin, Sarai, 1905, 1912 _

I almost screamed of shock when I first absorbed the text I was hunching over. Indeed, I was tired enough to be hunching, an action that made me grimace when I witnessed it.

How could this possibly be true! The mudblood was the heir of **_Salazar_**!

In my fervor I tore the page from its dusty grave and, after replacing the volume to its shelf, I walked as fast as my legs would go towards the Great Hall. My mother's words rang in my mind _'A lady will walk but never run'. _

A lady certainly wouldn't interrupt a man from his supper either, nor burst in on an entire hall that was engaged in it. But I had lost most sense of manner in my desperation. My sights were set on the very end of the table and though it normally would have made me self conscious, the stares being sent my way were easily ignored this evening.

"Why didn't you tell me!" malevolent was the restrained hiss that left my mouth as I sat down and slammed the torn and limp page beside Tom's steaming, half eaten plate of spicy cottage pie. I wasn't very fond of meat pies and was happy to know I hadn't missed anything by staying late in the library.

I had to say I was very impressed by his calm manner. He finished chewing what was in his mouth, wiped his mouth clean and only then did he turn to me and examine what I'd shoved in front of him.

"I found this in the library. I was researching your bloodline because I suppose it slipped your mind exactly **_which_** pureblooded house it was that your mother **_ruined_**. Well, just to refresh your memory here it is, clear as you like!" I was sure that I was now just as aggravated with his mother as he was. My harsh whispering would have easily been screaming-until-my-voice-went-hoarse had we been alone. As it was, we were about as surrounded as we could get and I still had enough sense left in me to keep my voice down. Although I'm not entirely sure this mattered because the odd reality of seeing me willingly conversing with Tom Riddle, an orphaned mudblood prefect was enough shock for half the people in our house to be ogling.

"Slytherin's in her blood, of course."

"Don't play with me."

"As you said, it's right here plain as you like." he slid the page back in my direction.

"So you knew?"

"It would seem that way." he was annoyingly composed.

"That's why you were able to find his study…" the insight dawned on me so suddenly I felt as though I had just been knocked from my seat onto the floor. And twice as insulted.

"Naturally."

"Why haven't you told anyone!"

"What would you have done? Would you have even believed me?"

"Yes!" I answered rashly without thinking about what I was saying.

"Do not be so sure, I still have dirty blood."

My sigh showed defeat.

"I'm sorry."

"That's the second time you've apologized needlessly."

"That's the second time you've assumed you knew why I was apologizing." I reminded him, my demeanor much calmer. "I meant I was sorry for, well bursting in and ruining your meal and the like."

"Don't worry, I don't like meat pies much anyway." he grimaced down at his plate for a moment.

My smile was soft, owing to the fact that I surely was going to pass out right in front of everyone and wake up with a nice face full of pudding.

"Why were you in the damn library looking up my bloodline anyways?" he turned to me in the mess of my wandering thoughts.

"Well you didn't seem keen on telling me just which pureblooded family you were descended from. You should know me well enough to realize I'd just be dying to know. Especially after that letter about marrying into pureblood from my mother-Merlin, my mother!"

"What's she got to do with **_my_** mother?"

"Have you gone daft? When she hears I left Gregory for the heir of Slytherin"-

"She cannot know." his tone was one of finality and made me feel like I had reached a stone wall.

"But, I must tell her!"-

"Lydia surely you're smarter than that! She will know what has happened to my mother. Or at the very least she will know that the Slytherin line died out with a daughter. What is she to say when she hears the name Riddle? It is not a wizarding name."

"I can't just ignore what I know. I can't very well keep this from my family when it would fix every blithering problem I'm going through." I argued, knowing I sounded like a brat. _'Problems indeed! What problems?' _I'm sure that's what Tom was thinking.

"Well, you're going to have to. That's the way of the world. It isn't all rainbows and pots of gold." he was growing tired of our discourse as he broke a bit of cinnamon bread and spread some butter on it.

"How can you just ignore this! You're a Slytherin for God's sakes. You of all people shouldn't just be accepting how unfair life is"-

"How do you think **_I_** feel? **_I'm_** the one forced to keep it a secret. Forced to endure torturous name calling day in and day out. I'm excluded because I don't have pure blood in a house known for it when it was the blood running in **_my_** veins that gave birth to this house. Trust me Lydia I know how unfair it is." his eyes were alight with more than candlelight this time. A new born rage had ignited there for a few scarce moments.

"Don't yell at me." I snarled from my seat. Sympathy may have started to chip at me but I was still myself.

His frustration melted slowly to compassion. He hadn't meant to blow up at me, the mistake was clear in his eyes and I had enough experience to know he was going to try and redeem himself.

"Your eyes are bloodshot and there are heavy circles under them, you're exhausted."

"Aren't we observant." I grumbled, massaging my forehead. My eyeballs were getting tighter, having to adjust to looking at Tom as apposed to leaning over a book for hours, and a sinus headache was winding itself up just between them. As my eyes closed I felt his hand mold to the rounded shape of my shoulder.

"Why don't we take a visit to the study, eh? Help you relax?"

I shoved his hand away, continuing to massage my head. There was more than a sinus headache brewing in there.

"No Tom, not tonight. I need sleep." Whether that mumble was coherent from behind my hands or not was none of my concern as it had been hard enough to grind out.

"And I assure you, you will get plenty of it. There'll be no one to disturb you or ask questions. You won't even have to find your way there. I'll take you, you can even close your eyes if you like, they look awful heavy."

They were and he was right, no disturbances would be lovely. Which was precisely why I was going straight to my dormitory. My robes almost caught on the bench as I got up to leave. I was steadied by Tom's strong hand grabbing my upper arm.

"We can talk about my parents if you like."

My scowl couldn't be helped as I yanked my self upwards and out of his reach.

"A bit late for that, don't you think?"


	5. Stray Cat Drowning

**Warning: This chapter gets racy, no sex, its just racy. Don't say I didn't warn you ;)**

**Ch. 4: Stray Cat Drowning**

The support of my bed had never felt so fine, and it wasn't even my body that was tired, it was my brain. I soaked up the feeling of the soft, green quilt beneath me, but soon paid for having been careless enough to leave my curtains open. A new weight strained the side of my twin mattress. I missed my queen sized bed terribly…not to mention the locks on my bedroom door.

"What was that all about at supper?" We knew one another so well that I could picture Celeste speaking the words in my head, even if my eyes were buried in my blankets and under my hair.

'_Christ Almighty, leave me the bugger alone!'_

"If it were any of your business trust me Celeste, you would already know what it was about." I had no intention of telling her, even if I so desperately wanted to. My words were somewhat muffled and I knew I was making it hard for her to comprehend what I was saying. Again, I honestly didn't care.

"This is ridiculous! Now you and that dirty blooded brat are sharing secrets?"

Sighing, I pushed my self up in order to flip onto my back.

"May I remind you that you were the one who stopped talking to me first?"

"Because of **him**!"

"That is not the point"-

"That **_is_** the point! I'm sick of seeing you with him! Of wondering what on earth could drive you to talk to him of your own free will!"

I cocked an unamused eyebrow, "You've been talking to Gregory, haven't you?"

"Not as much as _you _should be, you had no right to just break up with him out of nowhere."

"I thought this was about Tom, not Greg." I loved arguing. It was like rowing a boat. Constantly keeping up with the vicious current flowing against you and steering the conversation in what ever direction favored your advantage. It was times like this that I knew why I was a Slytherin and savored every second of it.

"It's about you." she growled testily.

"What about me then?"

"You're not yourself Lydia. You're conversing with mudbloods and you don't seem to quite understand how much of a threat to the values we hold he really is."

"Who is we, exactly?"

She stared pointedly, obviously annoyed with my impudence, "The purebloods, the rulers of this house? Your **_friends_**?"

"Friends indeed." I snorted rolling my eyes to rest on the satin trappings of my emerald bed curtains.

"I've already apologized for that."

"No you haven't, you simply explained your reasoning and personally that wasn't good enough."

"Are you going to force me to beg again?"

I shrugged, "If you must." a sadistic smile, much like the one's Tom liked to wear, crossed my mouth.

Any shred of having her back on my side was erased away for the moment. Her indention on my bed left and with it so did she. The desperate sympathy in her features was replaced with a more real determination.

"Fine, have it your way."

"Always love, always." Grinning, I pulled my curtains around me and curled up to go to sleep, still smiling.

* * *

From watery and blurry to clear, crisp and potently emotional; my dreams that night flowed about like a Van Gogh painting half the time. If they could qualify as dreams at all. It seemed I was merely reliving early memories of my childhood, each of them separated by blurry edges and thin, foggy veils as if they were layers being pealed apart. If a bit dull, it was at least peaceful and I slept harder than I could ever remember doing before.

As a result I woke up in a state of much greater refreshment compared to how I had felt before sleeping. Good thing too, it was Monday morning. Time for class.

The sixth years had potions first, which didn't bother me at all. It meant I could take all the time I wanted to get ready since that classroom was situated just across the hall, also in the dungeons. Once I'd done up my uniform, hair and make-up, my fingers couldn't wait to unlatch the gothic styled windows beside my bed. The panes were pushed aside to reveal a glorious day full of bright greens, sunshine and a whipping wind swooping down from the highlands.

'_Lovely day for walking, this. Lucky that Care of Magical Creatures is this afternoon.' _I squinted into the bright radiance, leaving the window open as I put my satchel together and left.

The first thing I noticed was that Tom had his reading glasses on and I daresay they made him look very fetching indeed, bringing out his jaw line somewhat and brightening his broody, dark green eyes. He barely glanced up at me as I walked into potions class. Only one of the two or three others in the room, he sat doing what else but more work.

I hesitated when I came to my usual spot in front of Jonathan's seat and beside Celeste's. Biting my lip for a moment in thought and chance-taking, I maneuvered my way between the isles of black granite, rectangular work stations only to end up setting my things down beside the prefect.

"I'm sitting here, if that's alright." I told him, already scooting onto the fore placed stool.

He smirked, "I don't really seem to have a choice in the matter." his chuckle was soft and caused me to begin wearing my own mild smile as I unpacked my notebook, quill, ink and collected my cauldron from the rear of the room. It was muggy in the dungeons this morning, I hoped the fierce breeze outside would take care of drying up the air a bit.

"Sleep well?" he turned to me, seemingly finished scribbling down his thoughts for the moment.

"Quite, thank-you. I had such vivid dreams though…" I shook my head lightly, turning to my own notes and selecting which ones would come in handy for that day's prescribed lesson. The large, bold scrawl of Professor Veterinus read _Befuddlement Draught _in contrasting white chalk across her blackboard.

"Is that not good?" he looked rather confused.

I shrugged, "It's just odd, normally I can't remember half of what goes on."

He shifted in his seat, "Perhaps your subconscious is trying work through something particularly puzzling."

"Well, I don't think so…it was all memories. Things I didn't even know I had remembered."

"You remember everything, your subconscious just stores it away so you don't have to deal with it. It's what keeps you from going mad." he informed me.

"Really? Sounds fascinating."

"Oh, it is. I've read quite a few books on the human psyche. Interesting little buggers, our minds." he chuckled.

"I should imagine." a few more students were meandering in by now and I knew it wouldn't be long until I was met with shocked faces and Tom received his own death stares.

"I still have a few books, I'll lend them to you if you'd like."

I shrugged, doubting very much that I was going to do any more work than I really needed to but meeting him with a polite, "Maybe, I'll think about it. So, what's this?"

Before the words could even fall over his ears I had snatched up a black book the size of a standard bible from his side of the work table we now shared. I held it in one hand, flicking through the thin parchment pages in rapid, careless succession. Black scribbles all dated perfectly and in careful, neat handwriting. My page turning slowed to a stop as I recognized the handwriting as Tom's and the book as a diary. My attention was now as captured as his journal.

"People Who Motivate Me to Perfect the Unforgivable Curses." A snort of a giggle left my mouth as I read aloud the title of a small list he'd fashioned. A faint blush spotted his cheeks and he made a feeble grab for the book.

"Hey, I could do without you reading it out loud, thank-you."

I had of course turned all the way around upon his making an attempt at his diary, shoving a hand out to stop him. My palm caught him in the middle of his torso and I had to swallow, flicking my surprised eyes up for just a moment. He had very strong chest muscles. I forced my eyes to cast back down, hoping my pupils hadn't dilated or anything too embarrassing like that. Damn it all, a girl with cunning could do with out the mess of hormones.

My hand found itself being retracted and I tried my hardest to pour my focus back into the pages of his diary and the names on his list. He stopped fighting, sighed and dejectedly settled for watching me as I laid the book down on the table and scanned the text.

"Dumbledore, yes I agree with you there…The whole of Huffelpuff house"- I was forced to stop there for a few precious moments of ringing laughter- "All the other prefects" I chanced another glance, eyebrow raised.

"They're all stolid pricks you see."

I nodded in such a way that would notify him I agreed, even if he was being a little blunt.

"Myrtle Miser, yes well, one can only hope…Father…" I stayed silent, in an awkward state of respect (of that general unspoken rule that only very close friends may criticize family members who aren't their own kin) and knowing of Tom's resent towards his only living parental. Jesus, not more sympathy…

The last name on the list was written in red ink as apposed to the black that had scripted the previous others, suggesting it had been scrawled during a different, more recent sitting.

"Gregory Dépit." Again, my eyes rose to meet his own green orbs. After a few moments it was clear that if I didn't say something he certainly wouldn't, "Not because of **_me_**?"

"Is there any other reason?" He met me with such confidence and clarity, I was almost put out with confusion shot under with a spot of denial.

"Alright, class? Class! Can I please have your attention? Enough chit-chat let's get started, now if you'll please begin copying the notes on the board we can begin the lecture." Professor Veterinus' voice amplified to reach everyone in the room. Taking a deep breath I found an empty page in my notebook and began copying notes, tuning the stout, black haired witch out of my buzzing thought process.

* * *

Come lunch I was more hesitant to sit with the mudblood so publicly. Choosing a safer route, I opted to finish the essays I had neglected for yesterday's romp through the Hogwarts student records. Of course it was my foolish my mind that forgot: Tom Riddle didn't _take _lunch, preferring to spend his time studying…in the library.

"Fancy seeing you here."

His words were low and again dangerously close to my ear. Thanking every God above that I liked to sit in secluded areas near the back shelves, I turned to the boy immediately behind me.

"Are you following me?"

His hand came down to rest on the back of the chair that sandwiched me against him. My only real exit was now blocked and we were even closer than we had previously been.

"I should be asking you the same question."

'_Watch it…' _a wary, sing-song voice noted as my eyes rested on his mouth. Two more inches forward and we'd both be in more trouble than either of us needed.

"I forgot you took lunch in the library."

"Is your mind failing you so fast?" he clucked his tongue in disappointed mockery. "So young…"

I rolled my eyes as he lured a small smirk from me.

"Look, I'd love to chat but I have work to do. I have to get back to it."

"You can't get back you weren't there to begin with." It had seemed that he had been getting ever closer and my eyelids were instinctively faltering when Tom up and took a seat in the chair beside mine.

"Bastard…" my mumble was a breathy one as I pulled out my own chair with a rough yank.

"Ah, ah, watch your language Lydie." he chided, pulling a few of my books over to have a look. He may have been charming but he was still dreadfully nosy. "So, what have we got?"

"Um, one for Visions, and one for…ugh Transfiguration." I read back my findings from the notes I'd taken earlier that week.

"Well, which one do you need help with?"

Reaching a hand out, I slid my books back so they were back in front of me.

"Neither, you go along and do your own work, I'll do mine. We should get on quite nicely that way, don't you think?" I had already taken out a quill and a bottle of ink.

"Lydia I have nothing else to do and I'm offering to do one of your essays for you. Any normal Slytherin would take advantage of this."

"Perhaps it's a nasty shock to you Thomas, but you're not the only ambitious one in this house. Besides, my writing has a distinct style and I'm sure yours does as well, you don't think Dumbledore's **_that _**daft, do you?"

"That's a very silly question, of course I do." his smile grew a little and his tone went cocky.

"Well, go bother him then. I have work to do."

I suppose he just had to get in a last jab before leaving. _Men…_

"No wonder you haven't got any real friends, you push them all away." the hiss in my ear was again low and his tone was more than deliberate as he leaned over my shoulder and whispered just before traipsing off.

Forty five minutes later and I looked up at Tom for the 27th time. I guessed it was time I admitted, at least to myself that he was devilishly attractive. He was chatting animatedly, while standing in an isle across the room from me, with two of his mates from Slytherin and some blond Ravenclaw girl whom I couldn't place from the view of her back. She apparently was much more willing to admit to herself how handsome she found Riddle. She had killer legs though and I instantly didn't like her. Or the fact that she was twirling her long, platinum hair while shifting from one foot to the other. Or that her pleated skirt seemed shorter than it should have been.

But it certainly wasn't the fact that she was talking to Tom, no that didn't bother me. That would just be silly and I am not a silly little schoolgirl. Then again, only silly little school girls can't stop staring…

Shifting my eyes I focused them back down on the half a page of scribble. For all the time I had put into the damn thing, my pittance of an essay wasn't even that good and I was beginning to wonder if pride over prejudice had been a smart idea. After all, just because he had dirty blood didn't make him any less of a prefect and as I said earlier you don't become a prefect on accident.

I set my quill down, marking the page of '_A Manufactured Ministry : A Collection of Essays on Our Government' _I hadn't been able to concentrate on.

'_Forget it, I don't need this.' _I was up in an instant and packing my things back into the leather satchel over the back of my chair, _'I don't want to be late for Care of Magical Creatures anyway.'

* * *

_

For such a beautiful day it went along disastrously. At first studying hippocampuses down at the shore of the lake was rather fascinating and made even more so by Miss Amelia Tresky loosing her wayward grace once again when she slipped on an algae infested boulder right into two feet of water. As for the lecture, we all had a chance to take magnifying glasses up and have a good long stare, at the hippocampuses not Amelia. Half way through the lesson however, clouds blew in over the mountains and heavy rain fell thicker than the trees in the Forbidden Forest. Once again I was reminded of why I hated Scotland so very much. Sopping wet, and even worse **_muddy, _**my hair had been reduced to thin, gangly strands all stuck together and my make-up washed away. I must've looked like a raccoon that had just gorged a mouthful of raspberries what with my smeared mascara and lipstick.

The lesson for the day was canceled as we couldn't very well bring Hippocampuses back into the castle with us, so we settled for going back to our common rooms until dinner. A shambled chorus of 'Aqua Evanesco's echoed through out the entrance hall as the Slytherin company all made our way into the cool damp of the dungeons, our tempers flaring over the weather. It was a very odd experience for me to not have anyone to sound off to. Maybe I did want my friends back, even if they _were_ arses half the time.

Aqua Evanesco was a fine spell for getting the water out of things, but the dirt and moisture that stayed behind on layers and layers of clothing was an awful bother to be left with. Especially when one's robes were splattered with caked muck. So it was off to the dorm bathroom again for another warm shower. Which, after being pelted by liquid ice, didn't sound half bad.

It probably wouldn't have been either if every other girl in my dorm hadn't had the same idea and gotten to all the stalls first. Just the muggy clouds of steam issuing from the shower sprays made me jealous.

Curse it all for my being born a girl and the dorms being split up according to gender. Merlin only knew, they would take even longer than usual for every spec of dirt and cold that wasn't welcome on our pompous skin. Traipsing back down the stairs I compromised with a spot by the fire. The warmth was as scarce as seats were for the horde of students crammed around the merrily crackling hearth.

"You're looking very attractive Lydia, I must say." I hadn't even had to look and I not only knew that I was being teased by Tom, but also that he was amused by my appearance. "Although I wasn't aware that the drowned cat look was in this season."

Looking up and to my left, I spotted his usual cheeky smirk as he leaned over the back of the sofa I was seated on. Not a hair out of place nor a bead of dirty rain marked his seamless complexion. Boy, if I had skin like that make-up would make me turn up my nose.

"It isn't, but then neither is being a mudblood." I scoffed. I was certainly in no mood to entertain. I was wet, and sweaty, and dirty and I couldn't stand it. That didn't mean he was going to leave, "So why aren't you wet?"

"I don't take Care of Magical Creatures." How I would have loved to smack that gloating look off his face.

"Pray tell which course were you oh-so-brilliant to have chosen instead?" I drawled lazily.

"Muggle studies." his look went straight.

"Gee, I'm really missing out on something, huh?"

"Hey, I'm the one missing out on dripping all over the carpets, remember?"

"Tom, do me a favor. Shut-up." My contempt only fueled his passion for annoying me. It was clear that he liked to play with people, get the most enjoyment out of their antics as possible. I liked that, just not when he was doing it to **_me_**.

"Gladly, only why don't we get you cleaned up first. You need a shower quite desperately, did you know?"

'_Ladies do **not **throttle people…ladies do **not **throttle people…ladies do **not** throttle people…' _Clenching my jaw I was desperately trying to keep a level temper. He leaned down, muttering in my ear so no one else, not even the crowd gathered to lick the feet of the fire, could hear his words. Words that could have lost him his Prefect badge and what ever lasting shred of respect I commanded at Hogwarts.

"Let me take you for a soak in the Prefects' bath." his hand came to rest on my shoulder, his thumb stroking over my slip, the strap of which I knew he could easily feel under the thin cotton of my white oxford. "You can take off these filthy clothes, get clean in heated water, and you won't even have to stand…I'll be glad to hold you."

I was taken aback for no more than two seconds before seizing his hand and slipping out of the common room, glad for once that prissy girls took such long showers and my ex-friends didn't get the chance to see me lacing my fingers between his.

* * *

I wasn't tired this time and was able to fully appreciate the marble floors, mild candlelight and sweet water. Back amongst the tall pillars I fancied myself a roman princess, stealing away in the middle of the night to break forbidden chains. The vixen in me was alive, not to mention the tease. No curtain was needed to aid me this time around as I took the time to savor every button I undid, stripping down to the satin and lace of my petticoat. My blue eyes kept as much of a watch on Tom as he did on me. Ladies, I assure you, you will never feel more powerful than when a man can't take his eyes off of you.

My back was to him only long enough for my fingers to fold the uniform I had just taken off and set it in the corner. That seemed to be ample time enough for Thomas to carelessly throw his clothes in the opposite corner and slide into the pool, clad in dark grey boxer briefs. Feverish lust had found its way into my blood somewhere between frustration and the wanting I'd awakened while watching Tom in the library. Perhaps this was some sort of liberation, my way of staking territory and showing that Ravenclaw girl up. After all, beating out competition was in my nature. Sneaking away to snog mud blooded prefects while half-naked however, was something I liked to think of as the opposite of my nature.

Not that I had known we were going to snog when we were making our hurried way up seven floors worth of changing staircases, mind you. But I wanted to by the time the stairs decided to let us get where we were headed and God knows I always got what I wanted. My hands were eager to go exploring over his chest for a second time. My lips were more than ready to become battered and swollen again. I hadn't had a spot of intimacy since two weeks before breaking up with Greg, and cuddling on a common room couch was hardly my idea of frisky. To my utter disappointment Gregory had never quite proved to be the playful, hormone infested type of person I was. Personally I would have invited his excitement but more than not was forced to listen to Celeste's tales of Jonathan and her sneaking away to spare classrooms for a thrilling snog in the moonlight. They would always just barely avoid being caught by Filch and they liked it that way. It added to the excitement. That was another way Celeste and I related to one another, we were natural born renegades.

Even there in the bath, the fact that Tom and I were breaking a good ten school rules (at least four of which could have gotten us suspended or worse on their own) whilst simply 'washing up' was what took my breath away the most I figure. Rule breaking was practically a fetish of mine, even if I was all but OCD over upholding lady-like standards. Then again, its never about the rules your breaking, its trying to get away with it. Danger certainly was my favorite game. And it was then that I knew why I was having less and less of a problem with Tom. It was because I was supposed to hate him. The rules said I was supposed to keep away from him, I was supposed to be a good girl and stay with the purebloods. But the tighter my friends played on those restrictions, the more I wondered, what was I missing?

Columns of steam rose from the pool, creating their own spiraling pillars as they stretched for the heavens only to have their dreams crushed by the impending ceiling. The near scalding water seared at my thighs, steadily creeping higher all around us. Candle light reflected off of the surface of the rising water, now choppy from the taps and our climbing in. My steps were slow and silent, bringing me closer to him. I had no idea what I was doing. All I knew was that I felt like an attention starved kitten. His eyes and hands were busy turning the taps on when I reached him, allowing even more water to gush down into the bath. My own hand splayed out on the shoulder farthest from me while my lips met the other softly. Three or four kisses later and he was just standing there, soaking it up if you will. I'm not sure Tom had ever been put into that sort of situation before, but we both made sure to rise to the challenge. We weren't in Slytherin for nothing.

I may have gotten away with kisses but I didn't even finish a second nibble over the taught skin of his shoulder before he'd lifted my chin and stealthily pinned me against the wall. For the first time our mouths met. Our dance certainly wasn't delicate, but we were only just starting towards passionate. His hand lingered, long fingers delicately wrapped around my neck until finally allowing them to drape down. The exploration he was allowing himself turned me on more than our kisses. Down my collarbone, gently caressing the raised bone with his thumb for a few strokes before heading off down to my cleavage.

My chest rose, half because I gasped at his boldness and half because my breathing was becoming ever more labored. His hands on my skin mimicked the alcohol that had gently burned my throat in the study the other night. However, my mind could barely process his touches as he slid his tongue between my lips.

Though I was shaking, I was determined to show him I could play the same game as he. My knee bent forward and I slid my thigh between his own. Shyness was near laughable by now as my upper leg slowly slid this way and that seductively. His other hand contracted around the thick strands of hair it was already drifting through in exhilarated excitement. Not to mention surprise. As I said before, I had a hunch Tom wasn't too experienced in this line of art and I'm pretty sure I made his mind stagger somewhat with that particular move.

Tom pulled back, staring me dead in the eyes with his lips barely parted as he sucked in one deep breath after another. If I was supposed to stop moving my leg I wasn't aware, as my eyes met his gaze. The giggle that rose in my throat when I realized his pupils were dilated was repressed only by my flirtatious smile being bitten into before it could grow. Only for a moment before he caught up in our little game of arousal, leaning down to swiftly bury his face in the crook of my neck.

He was following my lead, licking and gently biting the more vulnerable skin of my neck. Somewhere between the pleasure and pain I let my head fall back to rest on the tile, my eyelids taking their own cessation and falling closed. I could feel it in every inch of skin I came into contact with, I had seen it in his eyes, he had needed me. He was just as on fire as I was and that was so much more satisfying than any of Greg's kisses could ever dream of being. Pureblooded as they had been.

And suddenly…oh, the tile supporting my head was so wonderful. The exhilaration in me began to fade out, as if a loud crashing symphony had finished its orchestral song early. My senses tried to fight the biting and the hunger to shut down. This only brought on more exhaustion. A frown formed across my brow, cutting deep, almost pained lines into my features. The fingers fell from his copious, black tufts of hair, almost shinier than my own.

"To-Tom," I barely got out that last breath before slumping from the wall in a rather ungraceful fashion into the approximated four feet of water around me. The pressure seemed to increase with every inch and I could barely stay awake for long let alone move. This was the worst bout of fatigue I had ever felt in my life and this time it was life threatening. Strong, pale hands grasped at my shoulders and that's all I could remember before blacking out.

* * *

Water sputtered from my mouth the moment I woke in the hospital wing. Everything was blurry and so bright. I continued coughing, trying desperately to hoist my spine into an upwards position.

"Ah, ah, ah." the sound of low heels scurrying across tile. A cold hand with long nails helped me sit up and forced a few grandfather pillows behind me. "Easy does it," the hands retreated, "She takes her time healing but Merlin doesn't she heal well, Albus?" a feminine voice spoke from beside the bed I was on. Very slowly, the dizziness began to diminish and things came into focus. Globs of brown, gold and white became wood planked walls, candle light and clean sheets over dozens of empty beds.

"What happened?" my voice was croaky and sluggish. All at once I was suddenly brilliantly aware of an immense headache not secure to any one part of my brain. The entire muscle seemed to throb painfully, renewing the sensation every other second and making it even worse. My dreams came back to me…memories again, such vivid memories. Only this time they were not simple, small and apathetic. Every painful event I had ever experience had come crashing down on my senses like torture that had fried my thought processing cells to the point of burning out.

"You passed out in a pool of water and nearly drowned. Your lungs are fine, but your mind…well you've taken some damage but it's nothing I can't fix." These last words seemed much more for the old man beside the school nurse than for me. I'd be damned if that old man wasn't Professor Dumbledore.

"Good evening Miss DelaTorre. So good to have you back."

"How lo"- I rubbed at my eyes, desperately trying to massage the pain away. "How long was I unconscious?"

"A good three hours I'd say." the school nurse (hell if I knew her name) was turning down the sheets and fetching something from her office.

"Whe-where's Tom?"

Dumbledore looked to the nurse for an answer to my inquiry as she emerged from her office carrying a short, strikingly purple bottle. She studied the back of the bottle closely before pouring out, not liquid but small yellow and orange rocks across a dish on the bed side table. She handed two of them to me, one orange and one yellow.

"Here, suck on these. When they've dissolved make sure to put two more in."

Popping them in my mouth I received a sour blast of citrus acid. Well, my nerves were certainly more alert now. The headache steadily declined in power and soon only a dull pulsing in the very center of my brain was left.

"Where's Tom?" I asked again.

"He's fine, he was sent back to his house upon bringing you here. Which brings me to another question, Madame Constance, a moment please. "

The nurse gave a me an unsure look for a moment before nodding and retreating to her office before closing the door behind her. Lovely, thanks lady. Surely I had just cost Tom his badge and maybe even my entire house a large number of points. I turned to look at Dumbledore begging him with my eyes to spare me the lecture.

"What caused you to black out such as you did?" He gazed down at me with his hands clasped neatly in front of his robes. I suppose he felt it his duty as Deputy Headmaster to stick his incredibly crooked nose into my business.

"I was running and I slipped on the wet tile. I guess I fell unconscious and rolled into the pool." I shrugged nonchalantly. Lying on the spot was a specialty of mine.

"I see. It was a very lucky thing that Thomas saved you then. Tell me, how exactly did he know there was something wrong?"

"He'd been calling for me to come out, that's why I was running you see. He was afraid that the other prefects may have wanted a bath after the storm as well and didn't want me to get caught. You see, there were no showers available in my dorm room and I had a lot of school work to finish and I was covered in mud. Tom was nice enough to let me into the prefects' bathroom. Anyways, when I didn't answer his calls he came in to check on me."

"Ah, yes. I've noticed that you've developed a certain new fondness for Tom's company."

My eyes grew darker, my features suspicious.

"Yes…I've been going through a hard time with my friends is all. He's just being kind."

"Even after you've ridiculed him his entire life at Hogwarts?"

"**Yes**." What the bleeding hell was his problem?

"Lydia I hope you'll understand my asking you to exercise caution when trusting Tom's motives."

"Say what have you got against Tom Riddle anyway?" This was getting absolutely ridiculous.

"Nothing my dear, nothing at all." his eyes went somewhat wide in assurance, "I admire him in all truth. He has risen above such tragedy as death and abandonment to become a marvelous student. He is with out a doubt the most brilliant 16 year old I have ever known. But I am sure you have seen the same lust for power in him as I."

My lips remained docile. I supposed, in very small ways, I had indeed.

"When some one as cunning as Tom wants something he'll do anything to obtain his goal."

I frowned, "Professor, if you're implying that Tom hurt me"-

"No Miss DelaTorre, never." the old man laid a hand on my shoulder, gazing out at the rain splattering the window behind me. He seemed unable to find the right words as moments later he looked back down at me. His head bobbed in a mild nod only he knew the reason for. I swear, the man was off his rocker.

"You know they say no one is perfect, until you fall in love with them. You're a smart girl, you'll do well to remember that. If ever you need my assistance, I assure you that my office is always open." As he patted my shoulder, I winced at the pain that shot up my neck and he walked off.

A/N: Holy god that chapter was the hardest thing I have ever had to write. I hope the effort paid off though, would you mind letting me know? Tom likes his fan mail. Thanks ;)


	6. Collisions

A/N: This is dorky, I know, but wizard's in my story call figure skating, ice gliding. It's just another way to point out how differently Tom and Lydia grew up. Mucho thanks to all the reviewers. I can't believe no one's flamed me yet…I was expecting a few. By the way, I do not claim to own Olive Hornby, she is a canon character.

**Chapter Five: Rapt**

_You humor me today_

_Calling me out to play,_

_I can't be seen with you,_

_Please don't make me cry,_

_I'm just like you,_

_I know you know__I'm just like you,_

_So leave me alone_

_-"Telescope Eyes"_ by Eisley

_by_

* * *

"Seeing as you weren't doing any real harm, I can allow the incident to pass with a warning." Professor Sator waved a hand in dismissal of the entire affair. After persuasively arguing our case to the head of Slytherin House, Tom and I once again found ourselves off the hook for our discretions. 

"Thank-you so much Professor, we swear it'll never happen again." I promised. There wasn't a shred of earnest behind my words. Although I _was_ planning on steering clear of trouble for at least a little while.

"Very well, you'll both do well to see that it does not. Off to bed with you now, it's late."

After I spent the night in the hospital wing, both Tom and myself had been issued down to the office of our head of house the following evening. Naturally Professor Sator wasn't about to discredit his own house by deducting points or withdrawing prefect badges. Besides, Tom had meant no harm. The way the teachers saw it he was reaching out a helping hand to a fellow student in need.

"Such compassion!" They gushed. Honestly, you'd think they all fancied him.

"Good night Professor, and thank-you once more. Are you sure there isn't anything we can do for you? I hate to trouble you so late at night." I could have laughed at my partner-in-crime's outreach.

_'If they only knew…'_ my thoughts reeled and I began to wonder if Dumbledore had actually used his wits for once.

Sator declined Tom's offer and the prefect smiled genuinely before turning to open the door for me. Always the gentleman…when there were adults about anyways.

"I owe you for that tale you came up with. That was quick thinking by the way, I was impressed." He told me as we began our walk back to the common room.

"I wasn't trying to impress you, or save your ass. Both of our reputations were on the line." This seemed completely plausible. Perhaps if I made it known to him, it would be easier to convince myself that I hadn't had his possible suspension in mind when defending our behavior to Professor Dumbledore.

"Aww Lydie, that's not the game you were playing at the other night." his satire smirk tore my emotions between anger and affection.

My steps came to a halt and I turned to face him, exasperated not just with him, but also the internal struggle going on within myself.

"In the infamous words of Myrtle, you're a boy, remember? We were alone, I was in the mood, it just happened." I tried to walk off, but my steps didn't get me far. I hadn't even processed exactly what was going on until I was already pulled against him and our mouths were once again side by side. I would be lying to myself if I tried to think of that kiss as nothing. There was solace there, in his hands, his mouth, his arms, his presence, just _him_. He made the first move to end our kiss, backing away somewhat.

"Did that 'just happen'? Because I'll tell you something that was in public and you liked it."

I eyed him for a few moments in mulling thought. I had complete confidence in my ability to smell trouble and deal with it, but I needed to speak with him about my passing out. The evidence and coincidences were too suspicious for me. But then, how could we discuss such things in the common room of Slytherin? Oh, the pathetic social agony.

"Can you take me back? To the study?"

He began leading the way, though where we were going I hadn't a clue. Trekking along neither of us made such as a peck at conversation. I for one was too curious to see where exactly his leadership was taking us because funnily enough I had no recollection of how we had gotten there the first time. We climbed one staircase after another and I grew a little more weary with every step. It was already late, perhaps this been a good plan…

I thought we were on the sixth floor in a corridor somewhere whence we stopped. However it was very likely that I was mistaken because with how tired I was becoming, keeping track of my surroundings was becoming less and less a matter of importance. Almost at the end of the corridor, we found ourselves facing a statue twice our size in height situated in an alcove. It was a gargoyle, hunching on its mount with wings neatly folded and mouth sealed shut.

Pointing is wand at the statue, Tom made that unearthly hissing sound of his once more and a stream of light shot into the stone figure and it roared to life, shaking it's head and widening it's jaws as if yawning upon waking from a thousand years of sleep. Its wings spread much in the way a human stretches their arms in the morning. The alcove shimmered, stones dissolving into faint outlines of sparkling light. Tom took my hand and lead me around the gargoyle, wand lit and out in front of him. I was still a little lost on the entire workings of what had just happened but before I could dwell on it we were going through what had previously been the wall situated behind our rock-strewn friend, down a staircase made up of the same glittering, see-through stones that had replaced the ones around the gargoyle.

Looking back up over my shoulder, I caught a glimpse of the statue shaking its head once more and its wings folding back into place. Behind us the stones appeared once more and the passage way disappeared.

Down the staircase, we started through a tapered passageway hidden amongst the walls with nothing to guide the way but sparse torchlight. Or at least, that's all Tom had. His hands were laid out on my shoulders again, directing my every move.

"If you're tired love, just close your eyes. I've got you. Just close your eyes."

It took longer than usual to come around and comply with his offer, but as always I did eventually give in. The walking never ended, but it didn't bother me a smidge, I was seemingly in a daze and completely oblivious to the hike, or his conscious speech.

"There's a good girl." he leered wryly, "You're heart is becoming ever easier to mold, but your mind," his tongue clucked disapprovingly, "Such strength. You've begun to become suspicious of me, even if it just in the far breeching depths of the back of your brain. But we'll take care of that easily…you'll be mine Lydia. Don't fret, you will be mine." his sigh was one of content. "In the meantime, I do love a challenge."

I may have found his morbid humor deeply disturbing had I been aware of it at the time and had been given the realization of just how greatly his actions would come to affect me. As I said before, I liked to think I had a wonderful sense of when it was safe to stay and when it was time to run. However, this sense is hard to access when one's mind has been dulled considerably under the weight of Dark Arts.

"Actually, I should be more appreciative of your struggling. It helps, you know." he chuckled in a low, quiet fashion, "No, of course you wouldn't know would you, hmm…yes my dearest Lydie, it's probably better that you resist. I'll need to be honing my skills as much as possible and I can't be doing that on some weakling mudblood. You think you're so special, and I suppose you are…indeed I did pick you out especially because of what you are. Pureblooded, wealthy, happy, on top of the world and so beautiful. Not that you need any more bloody reminding of_ that _trait."

Maybe he liked the sound of his own voice, maybe he just needed to rant his real thoughts for the frustration of keeping it all hidden, but Christ did he have a tendency to ramble on and on and on...Part of me is grateful I wasn't forced to listen to it all.

"But it won't be so bad, I'll be here as long as you need me. Or rather as long as I need you, eh? We're almost there then, you'll need to fall a little deeper…fall asleep Lydia, sleep for me."

* * *

Crushed velvet…green radiance that crackled and danced around like the northern lights…my robes were unclasped and draped about me in the fashion of a blanket. Sitting up, they fell from my shoulders to a small heap beside me. 

"Ah, she lives." Riddle…the blur across from me rearranged back into the form of a sixteen year old. He sat in a wingback chair with a book open in his hand, his reading glasses perched smartly on his nose. The same black serpent as last time was strewn across his lap; his free hand absently stroked her head and back. How did I get down here? The last thing I could recall was sparkling stairs and disappearing stones and a statue that had come alive…was it even possible? I guessed it could have been, but more than not it was all just a dream. Speaking of dreams…

"What in blazes?" fatigue dripped from my words as I recalled the newly surfaced memories.

"Something the matter?"

"Those dreams, they haven't stopped. That's the third time in a row."

"The dreams of memories?"

Nodding, I massaged my temple as a yawn escaped my mouth.

"I looked that up actually. Recalling memories when your conscious is suppressed is easier on your body as it comes as less of a shock to you brain."

"But why would it have wanted to come up at all?"

He shrugged, "A new experience, a lesson learned, anything can trigger the linked files in your brain to surface. Most likely you have unearthed a realization, you're ready to undergo some sort of transformation or put into action a new outlook on life. Your mind is continuing to work through what you've processed even as you sleep. I assure you, there is nothing to worry about."

My gaze wandered, roving over the pattern of his chair. Snakes linked together by their tails while slithering over the worn wingback chair made up the material. My eyes traced the intricate serpents, mesmerized by their wavy design. His reasoning made perfect sense and I put the troublesome subject to rest in the back of my thoughts, turning once more to the grounds on which I had asked to be brought here.

"The other night, in the prefects' bath, what happened?"

"Well, it would seem that you kissed me."

Sighing, my eyes rolled towards the ceiling once. "Obviously. I was referring to my passing out."

"It would seem that the entire incident was a bit much for your brain. You were, after all, snogging with a dirty blooded brat." He closed his book and set it on the small table beside his chair. Another sigh left my mouth, but this time it was passive as apposed to aggressive. He may have been a mudblood, but I somewhat regretted calling him a brat. As cocky as he was, as much as the teachers spoiled him, his home was still an orphanage and he had never known any privilege in his life's time.

"You're not a brat…" I murmured.

"I'm still a mudblood."

"And I still kissed you." the corners of my mouth twitched against my will and better judgment. His own serious look grew to the soft smile I had come to grow fond of. Tom laid the snake that was situated in his lap over the armrest of his chair and stood after doing so. She raised her head watching his every movement in remorse as he left her side for me. A jealous and bitter sounding hiss told me she wasn't very fond of my company, or the fact that it took Thomas away from her. His glasses came off and found themselves being slid into his pocket. The cushion beside me was void no longer as he took his seat.

"You did indeed." His hand found mine and held it gently, "I know you're attracted to me."

I turned away from him, allowing my hand to stay in his own.

"I'm attracted to money and power. You, unfortunately, merit neither."

"_Un_fortunately?"

"You don't want this," I told him, "I can't be with you, not really. It isn't just about my family or my friends. My comfort level hasn't stretched far enough to lose sight of caring about public image. Eventually we'll end up just as Gregory and I did: apart. Because we can't stay together forever, you know that already. When that happens all I'll have is my reputation torn to pieces and my name a laughing stock. That isn't what I want and I know the pittance of what we'll have to save my reputation isn't what you want either."

"I promise you that when I'm older and we leave this school, I will make a name for myself. Everyone will know that name and respect it. I'll have more power and resources than you and Depit would have ever had together. Reputation will no longer be a source of worry for you."

"But I can't promise _you_ anything. I can't hold your hand in the hallways, or sneak into your dorm or even sit by the fire with you in the common room. I'm not even sure I'll be able to eat dinner with you!" The degree to which this bothered me was solidifying proof that I was starting to fancy Tom. What was even more pathetic, was that I felt guilty because I was sure that he fancied me as well. For I truly believed that's how he felt about me. Little did I know, it wasn't that he fancied me at all, only that I was more naïve than I could have ever imagined.

* * *

"So Lydia," Olive Hornby, a fourth year Slytherin who took the greatest pleasure out of all of us in teasing Myrtle Miser, was standing beside me in the girls' bathrooms as I fixed my make-up a few minutes before class. It was now near the end of lunch and almost the week, too, as Wednesday was already half over. "The whole school's buzzing about the rainy night we had just two days ago." 

"Terrible wasn't it? Absolutely torrential." I was attempting to smooth and brush out the clumped lashes that mascara had a tendency to cause. Looking over I noticed that Olive began to do the same. She was always copying us upperclassmen in an attempt to keep her popularity insured. We usually didn't mind since she was in our house and hey, imitation is the highest form of flattery.

"Oh I suppose, but that wasn't what I was referring to."

My back straightened as I backed away from the mirror and gave Olive my full attention. Her smile told me she was in knowledge of something I wasn't. Giving her a curious look I asked what it was.

"Oh come off it Lydia everyone's talking about it!" she laughed.

"Honestly Olive what are you going on about?"

"Well you and Tom Riddle of course!"

I felt the blood rush to my heart as it jumped to my throat, the color draining from my cheeks. How could they know? An angry flood of realization washed over me: Dumbledore must've laughed it up with the staff, the bastard.

"What _about_ us?" I was afraid to ask and this was clear in my sullen, defeated look.

"Well, just the fact that you two are being mentioned in the same sentence is enough to knock us all for six some what, but rumor has it that you were caught in the prefects' bathroom…." she sneered. For once, she had the upper hand over a highborn and God knows she must have enjoyed every second of it.

"We weren't together, I was alone in there." my weight shifted and I crossed my arms over my chest.

"How did you get the password?" she challenged.

"From Tom," I told her calmly, as though it were obvious and not at all a concern of mine, "He was nice enough to offer me the password when I failed to get to the showers on time. I was just as covered in mud as the rest of you and the girls in my dorm were quicker than I filling up the bathrooms. He was just being nice."

"Slytherins aren't 'just nice'." she scoffed, turning back to the mirror in disgust at my failure to not see past my own lie.

"The smart ones are, every once in a while. It confuses people." I told her smugly as I began scooping my make-up tools into their little bag.

"Are you defending a mudblood?" she laughed, intrigued at my actions and purposefully looking for dirt.

"I was giving you advice, since you so obviously lack Slytherin instinct." My gaze lifted from my satchel to Miss Hornby as I lifted the leather bag over my shoulder. "Another little piece of advice? Real Slytherins are leaders, not followers. So before you go challenging my actions just remember who you copy your own after." With that I walked away.

Though I had been successful in telling Olive off, I hadn't been so in shaking away the knowledge that the entire school not only knew about Tom and myself, but they were having a field day talking about it. I should've known really, rumors spread faster than wild fire over dry grass at Hogwarts. And something this shocking was sure to attract attention like nothing else. A pureblooded Slytherin knowingly keeping the company of Hogwarts' most notorious goody-two-shoes mudblood? What headlines we'd be making if Hogwarts had a newsletter.

_'The Ravenclaws had better not start one…' _I thought bitterly. Distracted between marching out of the bathroom, making my way to Charms and throwing a silent temper tantrum, I accidentally ran smack into a rather tall figure that had been making for the girls' bathrooms itself.

_'What the hell,' _I thought before giving myself a chance to see who I had crashed into, _'What freak of a girl is that tall?' _This question quickly found itself answered as my eyes lifted and were thrust into a pair of dark green ones.

"Ah, hello Lydia." his usual smile was in place, but oddly forced.

"Tom? Are you having gender confusion problems?"

"Pardon?" his eyebrow raised at my bold, seemingly random question. My hand flew up and pointed to the sign on the door beside me. A white, animated stick figure wearing a dress was brushing her hair and fixing ribbons in it on a black plaque that read 'Witch's Lavatory'.

"Yes, I can read thank you." He nodded curtly.

"Don't tell me you were looking for Myrtle ." I grumbled, still in the sour mood that Olive had put me in.

"No," he chuckled at the thought, "Actually I was just looking for you."

"Why?" I asked incredulously, giving him as much of an attitude as possible, already starting off for class and leaving him to follow with out notice.

"I was wondering if you'd finished those essays you'd been working on in the library on Monday."

"Shit…" the word escaped under my breath, "No, I haven't. Remind me tonight in the common room, will you?"

And with that we walked off to class. Not one person around us failed to whisper animatedly when we walked in together. And for the full ninety minutes of class, the whispering never stopped.

* * *

Hours later as I tried to get caught up on some last minute work for Astronomy I was disrupted. 

"Evening Lydie." Tom slid into the seat beside mine like it was an everyday occurrence. The dirty looks that shot our way were so numerous it made me feel as though my own blood was soaking it up and becoming tainted.

"What is it?" I mumbled, trying to keep my eyes on the parchment in front of me and away from everyone's curious gazes.

"I was only reminding you about your essays." he said. A mental scolding went out when I realized a very small part of me found it cute how the words dripped from his mouth covered in exhaustion.

"Merlin be damned…I'm already working on Astrology charts." I realized my own fatigue, running my hands over my face.

"I've already offered my help to you once, need it be done again?"

My response was interrupted by a scroll being passed around by Professor Sator who was asking everyone planning to stay at Hogwarts for the approaching Christmas holidays to please sign said scroll. As I passed the scroll down the table, I received a look from the prefect beside me. His hand closed around my wrist before the list could be passed any farther.

"Why not spend Christmas here? I never go back to the orphanage for the holidays. The castle will be empty, you won't have to worry about anyone seeing us."

At first I wrinkled my nose at the very though, but then, "Tom, you're a genius!"

"So you'll stay?" he gave me a hopeful look.

"Oh, don't make me laugh, of course not!" I grinned, attempting to pass the scroll down the table before I was stopped once more by his hand.

"Well, then what"- his optimism had fallen to displeasure.

"Come to my manor!" I hissed in a low, excited whisper. "I'm sure my parents won't mind at all, you're terribly good with adults. You'll have a grand time I swear it."

His usual smile still had yet to return, "I'm sure I would. Oh wait, except for the part where your parents torture and kill me for daring to come onto their land."

"I'm sure they'd let you open your presents first." I shrugged. Fighting a smile, the boy beside me rolled his eyes. "Oh Thomas, come on! They don't have to know you're a mudblood."

"Really, and what do you plan on telling them? That I come from the 'The Noble and Most Ancient House of _Riddle_'?" he mocked me bitterly.

A thoughtful deep breath met my lungs and I frowned in concentration. Within seconds I had the answer. My gaze lifted and I beamed at him from my own brilliance.

"No, we'll tell them you're the nephew of Elladora Black."

"The Black family…?" his articulation was deliberately slow, heavily resting on the word 'Black'.

"Yes, they're one of the most respected families in our world."

"Which is exactly what bothers me. You're parents will know the name of every child in that house. Won't they be amused when they cross reference and my name isn't on the family tree?"

"No, just tell them you're Elladora's nephew. Her brother moved to Ireland after graduating from Beauxbatons and had children there. No one really keeps track of them because his family doesn't have time to keep in touch, so busy taming dragons,"-

"Dragons?"

"Yes, that's why he lives in Ireland. He tames dragons there for a living. Don't you see Tom? It's perfect, it _will_ work."

"Except for my never having been on the roster at Hogwarts. Won't they realize? Surely, your mother will ask why you've never once spoken of a Thomas Black before. What will you say then?"

"Simple, you're so consumed with your studies that you don't have any friends. Oh, but wait, that'd be telling the truth. Bugger, where's the fun in that?" I smirked playfully and he shoved my arm softly.

"Or I could just tie you up in the boy's dormitories and force you to stay with me all Christmas." He murmured seductively over my ear. Smiling softly I turned to him and persisted with my case.

"But I _will_ be with you all Christmas. Only we'll be in my family's mansion with privacy and warmth and no one around to tell us what to do. Dreadful sounding, I know. But somehow I think you'll cope." I told him, patting his arm.

He snorted and cocked an amused eyebrow. "Stubborn little thing, aren't you?"

"You've no idea." I replied dismissively, "But back to what we're telling them. The studies thing should actually work. Be sure to let it slip that you're a prefect, they'll have kittens, I swear."

"It's not lady like to swear, is it?" he asked, giving me a cheeky look.

I lowered my voice even more so that now I was only whispering, "Neither is snogging boys while wearing nothing but our petticoats. Alas, I don't hear you making a fuss about _that_ faux pas."

He nodded, a brazen smile surfacing at the memory. "Nor will you. Now, lying to your parents. Please continue."

"Thank you." I laughed softly, "So, it's simple: I'll tell them that your family had business in another country and that you thought you had no choice but to spend Christmas at Hogwarts. But after you and I met, I absolutely insisted on you coming to stay at our manor and having a proper Christmas with us. It's mostly all truth, really. Which, while much less amusing for me, should at least make it easier for you to remember."

A small silence followed where Tom stared down at the parchment in my hands, remaining unresponsive at my last little joke. The gears were whizzing around in his head so furiously, I could nearly hear them. Finally, he lifted his dark green eyes to mine and they flickered from the dim firelight in the room.

"I don't dare underestimate the intelligence of your parents." he told me warily.

"I know my parents, and I know they'll believe us." My hand folded into his under the table, "Do you honestly want to spend another Christmas alone and cold in the castle?"

* * *

I noticed the hairs on the back of Tom's neck prickle a smidge upon stepping from the carriage that had taken us all the way from King's Cross to Wiltshire. A light shiver crossed his shoulders and he adjusted his coat. Whether this had been caused by the nipping flurry of snow that met him once he left the carriage or by the sight of Delatorre Manor I wasn't sure. Three stories tall and five windows across made it a rather daunting sight for an orphan, I'm sure. Descending from the carriage as well, I stood beside him glad to be back home. It was unusually dark out for just five o'clock. 

_'__That's the change one sees in her evening sky when a blizzard's making its way across the country side__.'_ I supposed.

This of course only served to make the warm candle light in the windows of my home that much more inviting. Leaving our luggage to my father's valet, I nudged Tom along towards the front steps. The second we touched the cement, our door chimes sounded.

"Sensor charms." I explained to Tom who gave me a funny look at the occurrence. I prayed that the valet hadn't noticed his lack of knowledge.

"Miss Lydia!" a shrill voice squeaked some three feet from my eye level. Shiny, our house-elf, had answered the door as usual. Her great hazel eyes looked up at me keenly. Out of the corner of my own I noticed Tom looking down with mild revolt at the creature. Thankfully he was keeping it in check fairly well but I had a hard time suppressing my laugh. "You've come home!" Her tiny hands clasped together in rejoice.

"It would appear so," she stood aside and let us in. "Where are mother and father?" I asked, handing her my coat and tugging at Tom's sleeve to indicate that he should do the same.

"Shiny believes they're in the study, Miss." She was having a bit of trouble walking under the weight of three coats but no one, other than the coat hanger, really took notice. It bent down and lifted each coat onto a different knob before straightening up once more.

"Good, good. Shiny this is Thomas Black. Tom will be staying with us for the holidays so take care and look out for what ever he needs. Tom don't hesitate to ask her for anything, alright? Shiny, don't forget our luggage now." I smiled brightly and turned towards our valet.

"Mr. Rinehart, you must nearly be catching frostbite!" I smiled sweetly, "Would you like something to drink? Some hot chocolate perhaps?"

Unaccustomed to my graciousness, our coach driver perked up.

"Aye, that I would Miss Delatorre. But might you be havin' anything a bit _stronger_? Somethin' to really warm me bones." He pleaded, trying to milk the opportunity and take as much from the moment as he could, not trusting my kindness to last long. Repressing the urge to roll my eyes in disgust, I nodded with a fake smile.

"Of course! Shiny, show Mr. Rinehart to our kitchens and help him get whatever he wants. Feel free to stay as long as you like." And with that last fake smile I turned my back on the house-elf to lead Tom towards the study.

"What was that all about?" Tom murmured, clearly amused as I led him down dark hallways.

"He's a half-blooded squib, Mr. Rinehart." I informed my company dryly.

"And you invited him into your kitchens?" Tom noted, with obvious confusion, before we came to a stop outside of a pair of wooden French doors. Firelight could be seen dancing within through the crack between the two doors.

Pouting playfully I looked up at him, "Aw, have a heart. It's Christmas."

"You aren't serious I hope." He gave me a nauseated glance and I smirked.

"Hardly. We need him in the house so I have a proper excuse as to why their sensory charms are saying there's muggle blood on our grounds. Tomorrow I can disable the charms myself, but for tonight we just needed an alibi."

A large, impressed looking smile pressed across Tom's mouth.

"Sneaky bitch." He accused slowly. From his tone it was obvious that that was meant to be a compliment and I returned his smile. It was sick how much elation I felt from impressing him in any small way.

"You noticed." Melodramatically pressing a hand to my chest I pretended to be touched by his assertion. We laughed softly before I took his hand in mine. "Come on, I want you to meet Mother and Father."

Reaching forward I opened one of the French doors, grinning uncontrollably. The fire was bright and merry as it danced in its grate. My chilled skin soaked it in, the nerves beneath beginning to thaw almost instantly.

"Good evening all," My smile only grew as my mother set down the book she'd been absorbed in and stood to greet us both. My father followed suit. She grinned at me, ignoring Tom for a moment as her hands came to rest on my shoulders.

"Good evening! Oh, look at you, you've got snow in your lashes. Now let me get that"-

"Mum, please." I swatted her hand away desperate to keep the smile on my face from fading at her embarrassing actions.

"Well you fix it then." she told me before turning to Tom, "And you must be Thomas." I tensed for just a moment before her beaming smile returned. A sigh of relief followed and I was suddenly aware of my father hugging me and kissing the top of my head. "Splendid to finally meet you. I'm Alexandria, Lydia's mother. So unfortunate that both of your parents were needed in Bombay this month."

Tom and I couldn't help but exchange a quick glance of a secret shared.

"I'm only honored to finally be privileged to meet the parents of such a wonderful young lady."

"We've certainly done our best with her, good to know it's paid off with such a reward." They greeted one another with the usual Slytherin ego stroking. Being pureblooded was enough to earn you flattery and spare the dramatics, but I wouldn't know if my parents actually approved of him in all rights until later.

"It's good to have you back dear." my father patted my shoulder before moving on to get in his own greeting with Tom. "Augustus Delatorre, wonderful to meet your acquaintance. Lydia's written quite fondly of _you_ my boy." I distinctly caught my father wink at that and chuckled under my breath.

"It's good to_ be_ back." I mumbled mildly to myself, staring over at the fire before a small 'Ahem' arrested everyone's attention. Simultaneously we all turned towards the half-opened French doors at the grubby house elf standing there.

"Shiny has finished with dinner. She hopes you all are hungry!" She announced, and we all began to make our way to the dining room.

* * *

"So Thomas," my father was just cutting into his beef as he looked up at the prize I'd brought home. "Lydia tells us you're a prefect." 

"Yes sir." he smiled proudly.

"Do you plan on being head boy next year?" he asked before taking a bite.

"Yes, I've been working diligently to earn the privilege." he told them. "I'm hoping the responsibility will prepare me for a job at the Ministry."

"You must work terribly hard at your studies. We did so hope Lydia would make head girl herself." My mother's face scrunched into dissapointment.

"Oh Alexandria, enough about Lydia. I'm trying to talk to the boy. Tell me Tom, how did you find yourself acquainted so well with my daughter?"

"Well, we're both in Slytherin so we've been acquaintances for a while. But a little while back I helped her out and that sort of set things off, if you will." He smiled down the table at me sweetly. The food all but fell from my mouth and I shot daggers towards his seat beside my mother.

_'If he even mentions the prefects' bath I'll hex him into next week.'_

"Oh?" my father cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, she was in the bathroom"-

Glaring helplessly across the table didn't seem to make much of an impact as he kept right on going.

-"and I heard yelling from inside and saw it as my duty as a prefect to check on things. A girl named Myrtle had been harassing her. Anyways, I straightened it out for her and we've sort of been bumping in at odd places ever since." he smiled at me again. My own was fake, but shone none the less.

After dinner we all had tea as both of my parents continued to chat animatedly with our guest. To my delight they loved his company to pieces. My father seemed to find everything in common with him and the discussion topics were never ending. So much so that I was yawning before we left and had to insist on getting to bed before I passed out on the couch, reminding them that he'd be with us all Christmas and that they'd have plenty of time to get to know him.

We made the long climb to the third floor corridor, which was flooded with candle light by now. Tired I may have been, but excitement over showing Tom his quarters bubbled throughout me.

"I think you're really going to love your room." I told him on the way up the stairs.

"If they're anything like the dorms at Hogwarts, I don't think we should have a problem." He answered. A loud laugh escaped me.

"Hahaha! After you stay here you'll look down your nose at Hogwarts, love. I promise."

Keying open the door, we made our way inside the men's guest room. Creams, blacks and golds were splashed about as the color pattern. His wardrobe, queen sized sleigh bed and writing desk were all constructed of solid holly. Two windows standing opposite the door both had their black drapery, shadowed by white curtains and tied back with gold rope. The light from the already lit fireplace showed that the flurry of snowfall outside had yet to let up, and yet warmth radiated from the room out into the chilly corridor.

"I hope this will do." I gave him a knowing smile as we stepped inside. His long, pale fingers were roving over every bit of the furniture, fascinated by the textures and colors and sheer indulgence of the place

"Oh yes," his eyes took to dancing over the bed curtains and the rods they hung from, "This will do very nicely."

"Wonderful, if you need anything my room is the second to last on the left of the hall. Or you can ring for Shiny, she won't mind." Without much second though I leaned forward, laid a hand on his cheek and kissed him softly. "Good night, don't get the sheets dirty." with a last wry smirk, I left his side and the room.

* * *

"_Such_ a gentleman." my mother gushed as she brushed my hair before bed. Even though I was nearly a full grown witch, she still insisted on doing this. She claimed it was because the task was done better when the hands doing it weren't reaching back and tangling things all around. I knew it was her way of spending time with her little girl at the end of our, now scarce, days together. "If he's the reason you left Gregory I dare say I'm not upset with you in the slightest." 

I smiled back at her in the mirror of her vanity, "Lovely, isn't he?"

"Very much so, and he's so good with keeping up conversation. Such interesting insights!" her head shook in wonderment and I knew we had her wrapped.

That night as I slid into bed my content nature was ripped into with the sudden realization of just who I had invited into my house. The depth of the hole of trouble I was digging for myself. If I wasn't careful I just might end up in China, hanging upside down off of the only world I had ever known.

Still, I calmed my anxiety with rationalizing as best as I could. We were on _my_ grounds, in _my_ house. I had a mountain of magical blood and ability backing me just in case anything _did _go wrong. The odds were entirely in my favor, as always. Besides, Tom was smart. He wouldn't screw something like this up for himself. Not during Christmas.

No, surely I was safe. My parents were in no danger and neither was I.

So why couldn't the voice in the back of my head forget that he had proved himself as much of a Slytherin as possible in the last few months? Why couldn't I forget that Slytherins, while brethren of mine, were also always to be kept wary of? Why couldn't I stop thinking that I should be more careful about the territory upon which I was treading? Worst of all, why hadn't any of this stopped me before? Why had I let things go this far in the first place?

* * *

Life at home stayed wonderfully quiet. I laid in bed until all hours of the afternoon and then took cat naps. I went shopping a few times with my mother. Tom continued to impress my parents, striking up conversation with my father left and right. We had tea and biscuits, we enjoyed the sight of all the decorations that had been hung about by the servants. The only thing we never did was sing carols. My family couldn't stand carols- far too jolly. For us, the holidays were about leisure and only that. 

Tom loved his room, occasionally staying in there to read for hours at a time. My parents didn't frown upon this, but encouraged me to do the same. And, of course, I could hardly complain either as all his studying gave him rather tense back muscles and I was only too happy to massage out any stiffness.

That was probably the most wonderful thing about all of this. I could be with Tom and let what ever was between us simply be. I didn't feel obligated to make the relationship grow, or snuff it out or do anything. In those moments I soaked the feeling into my very pores, loving it. But at night, my mind sharpened on wariness again. I was reminded over and over that what I was doing was wrong and terrible and at times it caused a great bout of nausea to develop in the depths of my stomach.

Still, come daybreak all was well again and we were happy together. For my own sake I had started to become some what pathological about the lie of Tom's bloodline we had fed my parents. Denial was becoming a very good friend of mine.

Meanwhile, my dreams eased up a bit and I came to the conclusion that it must have been stress from school, both social and academic. I must have been mistaken however because my heart all but stopped when, come the early grey morning of Christmas Eve, I went down for breakfast only to hear tell of my mother and father experiencing the same dreams. I had wanted to shout out about my own dreams but knew better to keep silent.

_'It's nothing Lydia, don't bother them. Just shut-up and drink your tea.'_

Later that evening when I told Tom he said it wasn't uncommon for family members to occasionally have the same dreams.

"But they **aren't **the same. They're dreaming of different memories than I am, of course. But they _are _dreaming of memories. Don't you find it all strange?" I practically begged him to validate my suspicions. Only, I hadn't truly expressed any, not really. Just that the whole ordeal bothered me.

"Lydia, what would you have me say? That you're all being hexed in your sleep." he chuckled, turning back to his books, "Honestly, I didn't think you were this easy to scare."

"I'm not scared." I told him through gritted teeth. "I'm just precatious."

"You always have been the paranoid type." He sighed. "Listen, your home is well protected. You've got sensors on the doorstep for Merlin's sake! Calm down, will you? And please don't bother me about this again, I'm trying to finish my school work. By the way, shouldn't you be doing yours as well?"

That always sent me to my room in grumbles. He could be so damn arrogant. Alas, he was also correct. I did have quite a load of work to finish before the holidays ended. However, knowing I had work to do and actually doing it were two completely different things. Such a pity that one of the seven deadly sins is sloth. Greed and lust I understood but couldn't the Gods cut humanity some slack with sloth?

Christmas morning was no exception to my need for sleep and it wasn't as if a mansion full of Slytherins was going to wait on one little girl before they opened their presents. Upon finally making an entrance around eleven in the morning I received a hug from my father for his Gemini Feather (a charmed quill that automatically made copies of whatever you wrote) and a kiss from my mother for the tea set I'd given her (the likes of which included a self boiling kettle, cups that kept your tea warm and a guide on how to charm all your china never to break)

However, whence I got to Tom I received neither a hug nor a kiss but a look that said he was scared of the gift I'd bought him, although his was the only one which hadn't come complete with charms and spells.

"Why did you get me figure skates?"

"What? No, they're ice gliders."

"No...they're figure skates."

A frown cut down the middle of my forehead and I grabbed them, turning them on their sides to show him the blade on the bottom. "No! Look, you put them on and you glide over the ice. I bought them so you could go to the lake with me this afternoon."

His nod was very slow. In his eyes I could tell he appreciated the thoughtfulness but everything else about his look let me know he still didn't like the idea of standing on a thin blade and gliding over friction-less ice.

"Muggles call them figure skates." he whispered in my ear as he hugged me in a new found gratitude that I had enough experience to know was just for my parents.

"Which is enough reason in itself for you to stop calling them that. They're ice gliders and you're going to wear them this afternoon." I told him flatly, smiling brightly.

We trekked out to the frozen-over lake just half a mile into the woods behind my house around mid afternoon following Christmas Tea. The sun glared blindingly white off of the untouched snow all around us. Every now and then animals in the trees would stir and it made me somewhat nervous. I wasn't very fond of animals (they weren't very fond of me either so we were even) and as their stares pinned our trail towards the lake I was uncomfortably reminded of the looks I got at Hogwarts when ever I was with Tom.

"Happy Christmas by the way." Oddly Tom was leading me, even though these were my woods and he had never been amongst the trees before. I figured his legs were longer than mine and the trail was cut rather clear so it wasn't all that suspicious.

"Hmm?" He'd stolen my attention from the wildlife around us. "Oh, yes Happy Christmas to you as well. Thank you again for the present you gave me, it was lovely." His gift to me had been a round, gold compact with an ornate 'L' carved onto the top. He knew I loved mirrors and checking my appearance, now I needn't visit the bathroom so much to do so.

Upon arrival I showed him the small bench my father had brought out here when I was younger to help me lace up my gliders. We sat and I was surprised that he hadn't needed any help what so ever doing up his own. I had anticipated for sure that he would ask for assistance.

"Won't your parents wonder if you're alright out here?" he asked as I stepped out onto the ice, tracing a few warm up circles before beginning my figure eights. I only went gliding once a year now that I was in school so, of course, I had become rather rusty.

"No!" I giggled at the idea of their concern. "They go to parties every year, I'm terribly used to it. They won't be back until very early in the morning I'm afraid." I told him with a devilish smirk across my face.

"How sad." he returned the look as he stood to meet me, "What _shall_ we do with out them?"

My smile only grew and I glided over to help him get onto the ice. Instinctively, I grabbed both of his hands in mine with the knowledge that he would need as much support as he could get. His legs wobbled somewhat and threatened to send him sliding backwards onto his arse. The giggle which emerged from my mouth thereafter couldn't be helped as I practically attempted to teach a prefect how to walk all over again.

* * *

"Bend your knees a little, don't stand so stiff…okay, good now just sto"- He fell again, this time landing in a pile of snow. Sighing, I glided over to him, breaking with ease. 

"Tom, I already told you." My smile remained as I helped him up, "You have to turn to stop. If there's no friction"-

"I won't stop until something stops me. Yes, I think I've got that part." he drawled after me, brushing off snow.

"I'm loving the attitude." My arms crossed under my chest and I glared playfully. "Come on, it's a lot of fun once you get the hang of it."

He just rolled his eyes.

"Hey, what ever happened to Mr. Ambition?" I teased him.

"He must've run off with Ms. Prejudice for a quick snog." He replied, leaving me standing there as he went at it again, gliding off towards the other side of the lake. Amazed at his nerve and ability to bring out the worst in me, I turned and caught up to him.

"If you prefer my being disgusted with your every movement, we can go back to that." I said, a hurt edge in my tone. He only chuckled.

"I was making a comparison Lydie. People change; you were simply the best example ready to me."

"Did I change for the better or worse?" I frowned at him, unwilling to accept his answer and the fact that he was right.

"That's up to you…" his hand gently laced with mine, "But if it's any help, ask yourself how you feel when I kiss you." We leaned together and I couldn't help but mentally roll my eyes. The bastard could stop on a dime when he wanted to.

I felt the warmth of his hand melt the cold from my icy, wind whipped cheeks. His mouth did the same to my now dry lips. That problem was solved easily when his tongue flicked over them softly.

We were snogging.

In open air.

Where anyone could come to call around and they'd see us and I could get into more trouble than I'd ever wanted. I knew the chances of this happening were more than simply remote. Our woods were private and dozens of hexes and jinxes stood sentry of the borders, ready to attack anyone foolish enough to ignore the property lines. Still, it **could** happen. One of my mother's friends, (Merlin willing anyone besides the Black family) might drop by to wish us all a Happy Christmas and send their house elf into the woods to look for us because our own might be too stolid to keep her mouth shut. Though the thought that any family rich enough to know us that well wasn't pompous enough to go around visiting friends on their holiday was also something I knew better than to buy into.

These thoughts of mine went on a rampage and I realized I was missing all of the fun. Too bad for me it ended just as I realized this.

As I had tried to adjust my weight, Tom had tried to do the same and when we'd instinctively grabbed for security on one another's arms. The thin metal blades on our gliders lost their delicate balance and we both fell. Tom was lucky, his fall was simply a backwards decent. I wasn't so fortunate as I fell forward and took a rather ungraceful trip as my foot caught the blade of his glider and, as I tripped, I felt my shin slice open. I hit the ice on my side and went skidding for sometime until a nearby snow bank stopped me. A faint trail of red streaks could be seen in my wake over the foggy ice.

I was alone for mere seconds before Tom made his way over to me, helping me sit up.

"Here let me see," He gingerly went for my shin and I hissed when he brought my leg up. "Well, that was a lovely demonstration of your theory. No friction and you won't stop until something stops you, I believe." His tongue clucked against the roof of his mouth as I did my best to remain calm and uncomplaining. "I'll need to get these figure skates off and get you inside straight away."

"For the last time Tom, they are **not** figure skates."

* * *

"Let me see, I've cleaned so many of these wounds at the orphanage, trust me. All those silly little boys running around…" We had made it back to the house and with the help of my spare key we were in his room before anyone could see the damage. Deciding not to use magic since it was against the law and all, Tom had assured me he could take care of the gash.

"Weren't you a silly little boy once as well?" I smiled, sitting on the edge of his bed. He was fussing over me like I'd never seen anyone before but I didn't bother to stop him. I did love attention after all. Only a second's worth of thought and he smiled, amused at my question and the answer he was about to give me.

"No. Never once in my life." his smirk was wry and his look sarcastic.

"What on earth did you do all day as a child?" my arms went behind me to support my spine as I leaned back on them, allowing him to do what he needed to with my skinned shin.

"I actually sat. On a chair beside one of the windows that looked out onto Townsend street, which was the street just in front of the orphanage. It was named after the residents of the home because at one time it was the largest house for blocks and the Townsend family lived there quite happily for many generations until about 30 years ago old Madame Townsend lost her husband in the first World War and would have lost the house to boot only her daughter, Tabitha, gave her mother the idea that if she turned the place into an orphanage, the bank would be forced to pay her to keep it running and could never shut it down for lack of money."

"What ever happened to Tabitha? Was she pretty? Did she marry off?" I asked all at once.

"She used to be very beautiful to look at indeed. She still has some last bits of vestige left, but the stress of managing fifty seven girls and boys has left her rather worn. She never married, she couldn't. Her mother fell ill and Tabitha refused to leave her and the children. She loves the children, really she does."

"So, what does all this have to do with your never being a silly little boy?"

"Ah yes, that." his smile was too fond for such a seemingly depressing memory, "Well, I've always been an orphan you see. I knew my mother's arms for no longer than 12 minutes, or at least that's what I was told." the smiled ebbed and he sighed, "Anyway, I was convinced my father or perhaps his parents would come get me. I was determined even then and so I sat beside the window every day looking out onto Townsend Street. I'd been doing it for too long before I thought to count days. I believe it started a few months after my second birthday. Then my only thoughts were of someone coming to get me, to take me away from my hell of screaming infants, crashing laughter, and nights spent hungry on a thin, lumpy cot in the corner. I was only just realizing that my circumstances weren't normal, that I was missing something." finished bandaging my leg, Tom made to lay down beside me. Promptly I scooted to make room before snuggling back up to him and laying my head on his arm which now stretched behind my neck.

"Well once I got the idea in my head it was damn near impossible putting it to rest. I sat there for years, watching snow fall, reading books, occasionally glancing at the other children. I established myself as quiet, reserved, and terribly dedicated to finding something that I could commit to. Something that would give my life real meaning. Three or four years down the road and I refused to stop looking out that window. It had it in me that someone would come for me.

"Meanwhile I'd read through every book in the place and Tabitha was starting to worry about my health. I never said anything to anyone, I didn't play, I didn't run around or get dirty. But I did make odd things happen. Whenever the other children badgered me enough, kettles would whistle when there wasn't any heat on and the glass on the windows would rattle as if a poltergeist were my body guard.

"When I turned six Tabitha took me aside and had me help her with chores. She told me she cared for me and that she didn't want me to be unhealthy. She asked me if there was something bothering me, I told her if it wasn't obvious by then that **I **wasn't the one with a problem. I swear it was the first time I'd ever seen her laugh. From then on I spent every day with her. We washed things and put them away, we dusted and mopped. By the time I was ten I was practically the hall monitor. The other children couldn't stand me, but I didn't care. Sometimes at night, over a cup of hot tea she'd tell me everything she'd learned at school. Everything about how life was before the war."

"What kinds of things?" my heavy eyelids closed as I became steadily more and more aware of how much the athletic activities of the day had taken their toll on my stamina.

"Just…everything. She taught me arithmetic and explained politics to me. She told me the gossip that was spreading around the neighborhood. We talked about the war quite a bit as I had so many questions about all she mentioned. The most fascinating thing to me by far though was when she explained the persecution of Jews and how Hitler wanted to send them to a hell only he could. I was so young I didn't quite comprehend the ideas of heaven and hell."

"The religious stand point of it? You know I never have either, such a muggle past time religion is. No one's ever explained it to me."

"I suppose you want me to?" I heard the sarcastic smirk in his very words.

A dry smile found my lips, "Why Thomas, I believe I do."

"Very well then, let's see, heaven and hell. Well, I'd better start out with heaven as it came first. According to Tabitha, Heaven is the reward a human soul receives for suffering the trials of life on earth. It's said to be pure infinite beauty, glory and happiness and all Christians strive for this goal. Angels and sun all around, no evil to haunt you or shadows to be wary of."

"Mmhmm…"

"Yes, and quite some time ago there was an angel who was so fond of himself that he fancied his potential for gaining power greater than that of the God he served. His name was Lucifer."

"Lucifer?" I frowned even as my eyes remained shut, years of studying Latin catching up with me. "That means 'light'."

"Morning light to be precise. He fell from the morning sun you see, cast out of heaven and sent to live in the fiery depths of hell. Hell is so many different things, she would tell me. Hell is every one of your worst fears chasing you for a thousand years and forever on. For adults it's the anxiety of survival, responsibility. For children it is found in being defenseless, suppressed; in knowing you're right but never being given the chance to be heard and suffering because of it. For the Jews it is persecution. None of them asked to be born different and yet they are forced to suffer because of it anyway. They suffer in the way that both adults and children do. Theirs is hell on earth. I remember her words so clearly…"

"Do you believe in it Tom? Do you really think there is a heaven and a hell waiting for us when we die?"

A sigh left his mouth. Tom was choosing his words carefully, unsure how to put what he wanted to say next.

"I believe that hell and heaven are on earth everyday. I believe we all must battle our own demons. But I do not believe in good and evil. There is no good and evil. Only power and those weak enough not to see it."

A few more moments of thought passed by before he kissed my temple and I left him in favor of sleep.


	7. Dancing With Wolves

Sadly, I can't take credit for the quote below, I stole it from a collection of banners by digitaljazz, who rocks btw. This chapter's a little on the short side, I know. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed and even to the readers who haven't reviewed. You guys are all awesome, thanks again.

**Chapter Six: Dancing With Wolves**

_You've got a secret smile and you use it only for me_

_A girl could fall in love_

_Don't let the stars get in your eyes_

_He's a heart breaker_

My parents were, as usual, determined to have the knockout party of the season and so came about our annual New Years Masquerade. I wasn't very keen on them as the theme was hardly original, not to mention my date for the past two years had been Greg, and before that it was only other boys my parents found for me. This year however I was holding out the tiniest vestige of hope. Not only because I would be with Tom but because this was my last year as an under aged witch and there was a certain amount of confidence that came with that territory. As though I was suddenly so much closer to be really being an adult, rather than simply acting like one. And as adults were the majority of our party guests, it _did_ mean something to me. Such a pity I had to burn the three invitations that had been made out for Gregory, Celeste, Jonathan and their families. After all, I couldn't have them storming up to my parents and stirring up trouble over Tom, not after all that I'd worked for. Not after all I'd achieved to win back the good grace of my family.

Mum and I went shopping for new robes and, as Tom hadn't had any money to bring with him, we explained that he had forgotten his own dress robes at home and needed to come with us as well since his parents had of course requested that the Floo Network disconnect their house whilst they were away.

The only robes Tom had ever owned or worn had been for school, so needless to say he was rather excited about purchasing dress robes for a formal occasion. The dilemma of him being without a knut of wizard's money was easily solved by my slipping him a bit of saved up allowance; 50 galleons in all, though I was sure the total wouldn't climb quite that steep.

Honestly, I don't know why the store assistants at Madame Malkin's had him try on six different colors of the robe style we picked out for my dirty blooded friend because I **_tried _**to tell them black was the way to go the second he tried it on first. Simple, elegant and a sure bet; it was exactly what we needed. Alas, I was forced to sit by the window and watch Tom model disgusting shades of puce and magenta (Merlin help me, I swear I gave it my all in trying not to laugh when he strut out in magenta. It wasn't my fault my attempt was unsuccessful.) while the female clerks blushed and gushed over how handsome he looked. Whether this annoyed me out of my own territorial nature, or because they seemed to be more dependant on giggling and dishing out compliments than breathing, I hadn't really felt like working out. I was starting to greatly agree with Miss Tabitha Townsend about a youth's hell consisting of knowing you're right and being brushed off anyway.

Either way we went with the black and I left Madame Malkin's giving my mother a rather large attitude I knew I'd pay for later. Her own robes were relatively easy to find, as were my own. Mother went with a dark blue gown trimmed in navy blue fur. It was nice, but I fancied my own something fiercer. The dark grey gown merited a black velvet border, hood and matching leather gloves. I adored it from the second it courted my eyes and so it was mine. Father already had his, a grey-green caftan with dark green satin borders. My pride couldn't have swelled much greater as I thought on the stunning choice in sophisticated fashion my family possessed. Tom seemed to think so as well, though at the time it never occurred to me that he may have been playing the sycophant.

An hour or so before the ball I barked at Shiny to finish up the French fold she was styling in my mother's blonde locks so she could get busy with the knotted chignon that would go in my own dark brown hair. I was anxious to see Thomas all done up in his robes. I wanted to make sure he looked alright and to get in some last minute reminders before putting him on display for the entire pureblooded population of Great Britain to judge. Finally, twenty minutes later I was able to start up to the guest room. Knocking swiftly, I was met only with, "Come in."

I did so and couldn't help but smile. He'd styled his hair as apposed to simply combing it back the way he usually did. The boy's eyes were looking brighter than ever and shone in contrast with his dark hair, darker robes and pale complexion. Turning from his mirror, Tom found his own smile, one that was much warmer than normal.

"Lydie love, you **_are _**a sight this evening."

"They're beautiful aren't they?" my gaze turned down at the skirt of my dress and I twirled on the spot. Once I was faced forward again I found Tom waiting for me suddenly just two inches away.

"It isn't the clothes you're wearing." his breath fell in warm, invisible tufts over my lips before they met his own. The heat of his hand seeped into the back of my neck and I pulled away sharply, laughing.

"You'll mess up my hair! The house elf's only just finished with it."

"Apparently you're not in a rush to repeat the experience." he smiled, still close enough to…

"I was just anxious to speak with you." a blush graced my cheeks at the thoughts that just flittered through my head. And here I was preaching etiquette. His eyebrow furrowed in amusement.

"Were you now?" again his hand began petting at my hair.

"Yes, I just…" my own hand came up to swat away his. My goodness he made it difficult for a girl to concentrate. "Keep your manners about you tonight, please."

"Everything'll be _fine_, I promise. You've seen me with our superiors." a smirk found his lips and I found myself licking at my own.

"I know…just don't forget to fix your napkin in your lap before you eat…and don't make any noise when you chew…don't walk too fast, but don't walk too slow…and don't stop smiling for a moment"-

"Lydia!" my name came out in a laugh, "My dear, don't you trust me?"

"Not entirely, no." I admitted as I stepped over to his windows. Of course, he only followed. Snow fell gently on the blankets that had already coated every bit of landscape for leagues. The windows were cold as the air outside and covered in fog from the warmth of the fireplace. Barely aware of it my hand strayed to the frozen glass panes as I looked out, longingly.

"You don't want to be inside tonight do you?" Tom's voice was low in my ear. So honest, he really seemed to care. I should have remembered then, a real Slytherin **_only _**ever **_seems_** to care.

"It's just so clear out." I pouted, "The clouds are moving fast and during the winter it's usually overcast every night. I want to go out and look at the stars, I want to go flying."

"It's too cold."

"Then we'll freeze." I sighed.

"Might we be seen? There's a muggle village just down the valley beyond your woods."

"We could walk the border of the woods until we're too far west of the valley to be seen."

"You do not fear wolves at this hour?" I couldn't tell whether he was trying to discourage me

or if he was simply in awe of my passion.

"Isn't that the fun of life?" I turned around, resting a hand on his chest and playing with his collar a little in thought, "That at any moment such beautiful creatures could tear through the blinding dark and steal your life, just out of fright from the sight of their very eyes."

"That's **fun** for you?" his amused look seemed also to posses a kind of empathy, as though he knew what I meant on at least some level.

"The danger and the beauty so close together. Haven't you ever found it captivating?"

"Certainly my dear." he took my hand to his mouth, kissing the tip of my ring finger. "If you want we can leave the ball early."

"You're tempting me." I fought the smile his eyes were already feasting on.

"Of course, would you expect anything less?"

"Less than Thomas being a tease? Never." my tone was savagely mocking.

"I don't tease you, I'm serious."

I laughed, "Then you are simply mad because we could **_never_**."

"Why? You are scared of retribution yet you seek the company of wolves?"

"Never scared, only wary. And with reason. You may act the part Tom but you are no Pureblood. You don't understand our world any more than you can understand death." I said, pulling the last word out of a hat in hopes that he would just understand what I was telling him. I could swear a flash of red tainted the purity of his emerald eyes just then. But no, it had to be my own worked up nerves playing tricks on me.

"Tom, those people down stairs are more like wolves than you could possibly know. You're mother would be happy to tell you the tale I'm sure, were she alive. My intent here isn't to add insult to injury, only to try and make you see. **_Don't _**you see?"

His hand took my own once more, "You speak of beautiful creatures taking lives with the very sight of their eyes. Would you believe me if I told you I could show you such things, at Hogwarts?" a manic sort of passion had stirred up in his eyes now.

"At school?" a frown danced on my features. "But how is that even"-

His finger on my mouth shushed me tenderly as the smile returned to his own.

"I can't wait to tell you, but not tonight." his arm came to my side, gesturing for me to take it. "Tonight, we dance."

"Do you even know **_how _**to dance?" the giggle that rose there after couldn't be stopped and I had to admit I was in much better spirits.

* * *

New Years passed in a haze of Champaign, goose liver raviolis, ballroom dance and midnight canoodling. Tom's waltzing ability hadn't been beyond box stepping before that night, but by the time I was done with him we were sweeping across the marble floor as if we'd been dance partners for years. His capacity to learn things so quickly was astounding and Tom proved himself a most stunning pupil. Surely everyone else thought just as well since by the end of the night he'd succeeded in charming most of the guests and had danced with every pureblooded female aristocrat this side of Wiltshire. When he left my side I couldn't find it in me to mind, possibly because my date was brown nosing women in their late forties, but more or less because it was **_bloody _**amusing. Here was a mudblood orphan, the likes of which I had treated as dirt for the past 5 or 6 some odd years, in the DelaTorre mansion captivating pompous gentry with more prejudice in their blood than magic.

Things were back to quiet after the ball. I tended to keep to myself, studying and napping, finishing essays and downing plenty of tea to keep me awake. My parents didn't bother me since they were busy keeping up with their own affairs and Tom was kept busy as well, though it wasn't clear to me with what. I had been under the impression that his prep had been taken care of before Christmas yet still he was just as shut up in his room, absorbing one book after another, as I was. Crazy bugger…

My dreams returned once or twice but it was becoming hard to remember any of my dreams at all. That was simply going back to normal I supposed, but why had they gone from vivid to murky? It was strange, my entire sleep pattern had shifted. I didn't wake in the middle of the night anymore as I had since before I could remember, I couldn't recall my dreams and my parents seemed to be suffering from the odd memory recollections that I had experienced at Hogwarts. I was sure something was going on but Tom was determined to set me straight and keep my mind from wandering into hysterics. At the time I had been grateful and took it as a sign that perhaps he genuinely could be trusted.

On the 16th of January, the night before we went back to school, he visited me in my room for the first time. I had only been to his own quarters throughout the holidays and he smiled when he saw the color scheme for the first time: creamy white, light green and a few hints of gold. I had always been proud of my heritage and the house my ancestors had called home. He told me the room was brighter than he had expected, though as far as luxury his assumptions had not let him down. I had just smiled and shook my head, remaining seated at my desk as I watched him take full liberty to look around my chambers.

"You shouldn't assume so much." I told him playfully.

"I was right wasn't I?" a shrug fell from his shoulders.

"You're **_always_** right Tom," I snickered, "And if ever you aren't you don't rest until you have proved your point valid."

"Are you laughing at me?" his steps advanced him towards my desk.

"Yes, I believe I am." my stare was a jestful challenge as I looked straight up into his eyes.

"Well, that simply will not do." before his sentence had even been finished I was being tickled as he leaned forward from behind my chair to nimbly rove his long fingers over the sides of my torso. My laughter was broken by a shriek or two as he went on with his dirty work. I'd only ever been tickled by my family as a child and his actions had come as more than a surprise.

"Miss? Miss! Is Miss alright?"

"Tom…" I lost my voice in hysterical, wheezing laughter once more, "Tom!" I finally managed to shout, "Open the damn door for her, it's Shiny!"

"All right, all right," he chuckled, leaving my side as I caught my breath, "No need to yell."

The scrubby elf tumbled in and ran for my desk.

"Shiny is hearing you scream Miss! Is Miss Lydia alright?"

"Yes Shiny," I nodded still breathing a bit deep, "I'm fine, Tom was just…we were just practicing school work is all and Tom made a joke." He smiled brilliantly at her and nodded half as well. She gulped, looking back and forth between us with her great hazel eyes.

"If you is putting yourself in so much danger, to school you should not go Miss…Shiny has never liked it, always leaving the masters are and for what? To be in danger where Shiny can't help them…" her voice trailed away very slowly as the somewhat stunned house elf made her way down the hall. She was a good elf, just more protective than my own parents. I already had one mum, I certainly did not need another. What was she so worried about anyway? As if there were even a remote chance of some kind of threat at Hogwarts, I was fully capable of handling myself.

Tom leered at me from the door way.

"Shiny is hearing you scream, Miss Lydia!" his imitation of Shiny's high pitched squeaky voice sent me into another boatload of hysterics.

"Stop it, she means well you know." I was still half laughing when I forced the words out.

"I know," he sauntered back to my desk, "But what does she honestly think she can do if something were to happen to you?"

Dipping for more ink I answered him, "House elves have terrific magical ability, didn't you know?"

"Yes, but they aren't permitted to use it unless their masters tell them so, and I'm sorry but if you're lying passed out on the floor it's a bit late for that."

"Well, that's what I've got the heir of Slytherin for." I smiled at him for a moment.

"To watch you pass out and then tell your house elf she's allowed to help?" he chuckled.

I looked at him flatly, "Ho ho, very funny."

"Speaking of funny, you don't get tickled very often, do you?"

"Not particularly, if you were looking to catch me off guard you did well."

"Care to go at it again?"

"You stay away from me," I pointed my quill at him wand like, grinning.

"Or what? You'll ruin my shirt with ink stains?" again his fingers ran up and down my sides, occasionally stopping off along the skin under my jaw and arms. "Dear God, I think she's enjoying herself!" his words only provoked the laughter flowing like a waterfall from my mouth. "You can't laugh Lydie, Shiny might think you're **_dying_**!" He was laughing now too and I could barely breath. I'd fallen from my chair some moments ago and was now writhing as he continued his relentless attack on my torso. Finally he began to let up as my complexion took a turn towards reddish purple from lack of oxygen. We fell back, laying panting on the floor, my breathing considerably more labored than his own.

"Well there we are, you taught me to dance and I taught you to have a good laugh for no reason at all, we're square." he said in a breathy chuckle.

* * *

Two days later found us back at school and back to classes. We turned in our work and received high marks much to my relief. A worry that perhaps the stress of having a mudblood in the house might have messed with my work's potential had been growing in the back of my mind. Our teachers didn't hesitate to pile more work onto our plates afterwards however, which was only expected.

Tom shut himself up in his dorm around the clock for a good week, doing what I could only guess. He didn't even come down to meals and two afternoons in a row he skipped class all together. It was no bother to me however, as he could only serve as a distraction from my work nowadays and that was the last thing I needed in my second to last year at Hogwarts.

Amelia Tresky was back in the bathrooms when lunch came around. On and on her mouth would chatter away about the holidays and I could barely concentrate on applying make up while finding the strength in me not to jinx her beyond all reason. That's why, when the poor idiot managed to get her foot stuck in one of the toilets somehow, I quite honestly wasn't about to abandon my personal bathroom time just to answer her pathetic cries for help. If she was smart enough, she'd flood the bathroom by flushing her toilet enough times.

'_That ought to catch some one's attention.' _I laughed to myself as I left her there helpless.

Tom was missing from class after lunch for the third time that afternoon and once more went unseen at supper as well. By now no one really cared, as we all were sure he had been keeping his nose buried in more books, or perhaps on duty doing something…prefect-y. But when the castle underwent a lockdown and our head of house came to call on the common room following supper I wondered different.

"There was a mudblood girl attacked this evening during dinner. While the loss isn't substantial, Headmaster Dippet is right to have the school put under alert. We do not know what caused the attack and it is most certainly still roaming about the castle. Everyone is to remain in their dormitories until we are sure that the hallways are safe. No one is to leave without permission from a teacher. The prefects are in charge until we've finished scouting the castle. Simmons, Blarney, come with me." Professor Sator beckoned our head girl and boy to aid him with patrols and in a swirl of robes whipping out the door, they were gone.

I must admit it was extremely difficult to sit and watch as Tom stood guard of the door with our other prefects, two purebloods, and another mudblood Theresa Green. Whether he knew anything about the attack I wasn't sure, I only wanted someone to talk to about it. I doubted he could know anything anyway, he hadn't been seen for days.

Who could it have been? Was she dead? Sator had only said she'd been attacked…but he'd also said that it was a loss. A battle began between what I had been taught all my life and the feelings I was being forced to realize in the face of real tragedy. I looked down at dirty blood, of course. It was the basis of my world. But I was sure I had never wanted any of them dead…

* * *

The embers in the grate, though still brightly aglow like a bleeding sunset, were dying in the face of the late hour. I was one of the few who had stayed in the Slytherin common room past 10pm. My entire house had taken quite a fright at the news of the attack, or lack of news as it were. Nothing more had been said to us and we were all of us anxious to know exactly what was going on.

Finally, a few moments after the bells tolled midnight Sator and his troops marched back into the common room. He barked at the prefects to get to bed and for me to follow. Catching Tom's hand on the way, I whispered for him to meet me back there in five minutes. Each of us waited on our separate staircases until we heard our head of house leave for his own quarters before slowly creeping down once more.

"Tom, what's going on?" I blurted out the moment I saw him, "Who was the girl that got attacked?"

"No one, just a mudblood girl." he shrugged and took a seat by the fire.

"And you're just a mudblood boy!" I was shaking, but barely. My eyes were wide and livid. He didn't quite grasp how much this had affected me until that moment. "It could have been you…" I said softly.

He took my hand and pulled me to sit with, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

"Is she dead?" I asked, my voice high and shaky. My blue eyes stared fixedly into the fading fire.

"Yes." his whisper seemed so soft I'd wondered if my ears had deceived me for half a moment.


	8. Death Wish

A/N: Well then, I must say this chapter was particularly fun to write. Tom is such a bastard…don't we love it? I hope you all like it. I def. went back and tweaked Ch. 6 a little and renamed it 'Dancing With Wolves', lol.

**Chapter Seven: Death Wish**

"Have fun over Christmas break Lydia?" Gregory half shouted across the room in potions the next afternoon. I was trying to ignore him while chopping green onion into tiny bits. Pinching the long stalks I pretended it was his neck I was slicing into as he rammed insult after insult into my ears. The whole class was listening by now and that only added embarrassment to grief. Professor Veterinus was sitting in her office with the door closed shifting her way through a stack of paper work. All the teachers had been asked to file reports on the girl who had lost her life: Amelia Tresky.

"Shame I had to miss your New Years party, word is spreading like wild fire that you had a rather invigorating guest at the manor. Every pureblood in the castle is talking about it. Except for your friends of course. Or wait, I forgot, you're only friend as of late is Riddle. Isn't it so true that our actions speak louder than our words, eh Jonathan?" John sent his own malicious grin my way and I mouthed back an obscenity or two. A dramatic and purposeful sigh left my ex-boyfriend's mouth. "Next thing you know she'll be fishing around in **_Gryffindor_**."

My jaw clenched as I wondered how well my hair was hiding the bright red blush that was fast creeping into my cheeks, making them looked like I had just been slapped. Emotionally, I had been. But Greg wasn't finished.

"But listen to me ramble, I'm getting off topic. Where was I? Oh! Tom Riddle at the DelaTorre Manor, that's right! Spent the whole of Christmas there I'm told. Tell me Riddle, is she as good a shag as she is a dancer?" Surprisingly it was Tom who held me back at Greg's oral assault when I began lifting the butcher knife gripped tightly in my right hand. His long fingers dug into the side of my arm, preventing me from advancing as tears formed at my emotional distress. The entire class was whispering animatedly now as I threw my knife down and took a few deep shuddering breaths while resting my arms against the work table in front of myself and Thomas.

"Don't let him provoke you, not yet. There are better ways of dealing with people like him." the mumble he offered me wasn't much help. The entire class, and by the time I had stormed down to Slytherin's hidden study (via the aid of a certain prefect), probably half of Hogwarts thought I had slept with a mudblood. Not only was I an alleged scarlet woman but I wasn't being picky about it. I got notably drunk that night and as the teasing refused to relent I found myself in Tom's company nearly every evening for the better part of a month. If I couldn't raise my own spirits, I would raise them in liquid form. One evening in particular I was so miserable that for an hour I sat curled in the corner of my usual spot on the sofa while downing gulp after gulp of crisp, cool white wine. My ranting got sloppy and loud as my senses dulled under the gentle persuasion of alcohol.

"I never li"- a hiccough escaped me -"liked him." another large sip, "**_Never_**."

"Not even that time I caught you two snogging in the trophy room?" Tom was reading again, not bothering to look up as he took pleasure from playing with my emotions. I couldn't even respond to his comment but instead plowed on with my own.

"He never had pro" I was swaying a tad as I spoke, loosing my place with my words every now and again.

-"proper nerve like that when we were toge-together…how could he say that? And to every-everyone?"

"Perhaps he liked you a little more than you **_never_** liked him." A small smirk played at the edge of Tom's mouth.

"I"-hiccough "I never did, not ever."

"And you still don't apparently." Thinking back on it, I honestly believe he was barely holding back his laughter.

"I hate him." I finished what was in my goblet, only to have it refill itself within seconds. How I ever avoided alcohol poisoning still amazes me.

"Hate is a very strong word, be careful of what you say Lydie."

"I know it is…" hiccough, "I hate him."

Finally he looked up from his book and set it aside on the table that kept his wingback chair company. Nagini, whom I had come to know the name of only upon our last visit to the study, sat comfortably across Tom's lap as usual looking more protective by the minute. Jesus, you'd think she was his girlfriend.

"If you were presented with an opportunity to do away with the prat all together would you take it?"

In my drunken state I could only stare stupidly, blinking a few times.

"Could you re-repeat the question?" For a second I was sure he had wanted to throttle me. But on the contrary, he rose from his seat and came beside me a gentle look on his face not being able to overshadow the morbid excitement in his eyes.

"If there was a way to kill him, would you take advantage of the opportunity?"

"Kill him? Who ever said anything about killing people?" shock and confusion sobered me up for a few seconds. I felt his hand brush my hair behind my ear before coming to rest on my shoulder. His mouth burned a trail of kisses along my suddenly exposed neck. It was as if he were injecting fatigue into my very blood. The feeling was just as it had been when I had begun passing out in the prefect's bath. A fever seemed to sweep over my skin as my reasoning blurred to the point that I couldn't recall what I was trying to remember or even **_why _**I was trying.

"Let me help you, let me kill him." Tom whispered. His voice seemed so needy. It's almost amusing now that I think about it, he wanted to spill blood the way most boys his age wanted sex. I was barely aware of it, or the nod that I performed.

"Yes Tom." I was all but breathless by now and I felt his lips break into a smile across my skin.

"My dear Lydie, I do believe you're finally ready."

"For what?"

"Why The Chamber, of course."

* * *

"Why are we in the girls' bathroom **_again_**?" He'd dragged me through the halls in an excited fervor, ignoring the fact that it was after curfew and we would surely be caught again. People were already talking about my relationship with Tom, the last thing I needed was to fuel the rumors even further. However, that didn't exactly cause me to resist him. My curiosity had peaked, could he really have found the Chamber of Secrets? 

"This is it, this is where it is." his grin stood proud as he rushed towards one of the taps and abandoned his grip on my hand. A frown broke out on my face.

"In here? All this time and all that mystery and it's in the girls' **_loo_**?"

"Yes." he chuckled, leaning over a sink and studying one of the taps. "Didn't you wonder why it was Amelia who died?"

I had been in the middle of bending down when he said that and it sent me stock straight. He had just winded me beyond thought for a moment.

"**_What?_**" my mouth practically bit the word off as everything suddenly came together. I didn't know whether to be petrified or disgusted or in awe. The boy I was falling dangerously in love with had killed a girl. He'd committed **_murder_**. And worse, he didn't seem to **_care_**. Now I may have been a good little Slytherin, but we were only 16! Did he really need to go and become a murderer before he had even graduated school? In my shocked silence I didn't notice the hiss Tom caressed over the porcelain sink before standing back and allowing it to sink into the floor leaving a gaping hole in it's absence. His hand once more took mine, while his composure kept perfectly the entire time.

I was barely aware of the situation until my stomach fell into my upper chest and I screamed at the feeling of free falling through the dark. The vertical tunnel was seemingly never-ending as the wind whistled in my ears.

Tom only laughed when my nails dug into his knuckles. More passageways seemed to fly by us, branching off of our own, but at the speeds we reached I couldn't really know. What I did know, was that we must have hurtled into the very depths of the school, further down even than the dungeons I knew so well.

We hit the ground hard, Tom coming to a stop catlike on his haunches with me in rumpled heap beside him. How I managed to not break my ribs was a wonder. I noticed his gracefulness and stared, almost afraid as he began walking off, completely unphased or unharmed. Was he not even human?

Everywhere around us was damp and dark, I could scarcely see a thing at all. My robes were stained with dirty water. At least, it looked dirty. The puddles I was surrounded by were dark and by no means clean. However what ever was polluting them…I couldn't be sure but it looked more like ink than actual dirt. For a moment I wondered if it was blood for it was not uncommon to come across rat corpses, stripped of their flesh, as I looked around.

"Tom, wait." Pushing myself up, I made my best to hurry towards him. My own hand grabbed his this time as I finally caught up to his fast pace, splashing the puddle water all over my ankles and black knee socks. "Tom please, what the hell is going on? Why did you kill Amelia?"

"She was awfully hungry, I had to do **_something_**." he said, as if it were painfully obvious.

"Who"-

"Shh." he raised his hand to hush me as we reached a round vault looking door with two snakes entwined into it, their eyes set with great, glittering emeralds. I couldn't make out a handle or lock or anything. But I didn't have to, Tom let the words flow from his mouth as he all but whispered parseltongue once more. I couldn't decide whether or not the shivers that shook me when he spoke like that meant that his hissing turned me on or frightened me. The snakes as well as the door slid to hiding within the wall and our path was left clear. A large walkway came into view, leading to an archway that seemed to open up to an even larger room. Only it wasn't a room, it was the Chamber.

My eyes feasted on the beauty of the structures around me only partially shrouded in darkness now with minimal torchlight. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness. Long black shadows stretched along the walls and floor and I got the feeling that these shadows held terrible secrets. There was a certain lure to that, like a prefect inviting you to do things you know better than to do. I felt like a queen on the arm of the heir of Slytherin, surveying a court I had only dreamed of before. Murderer or not, Tom had just tapped into one of my most fanatical fantasies and for that I loved him.

As we drew level with the last of the pillars and they shrank away into the past, I was presented with quite a sight. Stone stretching to the very ceiling was carved into an intricate art of worry lines and flowing robes. Salazar Slytherin stood guard of his magnificent creation, staring down at me in judgment.

Suddenly the image was gone and I was left in nothing but darkness that could have went on forever but ended just after my eye lashes. Tom was securing a blindfold around my eyes. My hands flew up to meet his in resistance.

"Tom? What are you doing?"

"Just making sure that you survive the night. I hope that's all right with you Lydie."

"Do you have any idea how confused you're making me?" I pouted in a frustrated growl.

"Oh honestly, you sound like a Huffelpuff. Now would you grow up and trust me?" his hands rested on my shoulders as he guided my path from behind. The hissing that Tom breathed over my ear was not meant for me as we walked along, making our way closer to the statue. I could hear something stirring within the innards of Salazar's statue, could feel it in the air. This disturbance soon turned a bit menacing as I sensed a great presence making its way past me. Coming round, the end of it thudded upon the stone floor. It drew nearer, coming right up to me.

"Aah!" a shriek left my mouth out of pure instinct when the sensation of cold, slimy scales met my skin. Humongous muscles flexed beneath its skin as it moved. I recognized the feeling and registered the animal as a snake. A **gigantic** snake. "Tom…Tom what is it?"

He chuckled, picking up my hand and slowly guiding it forward with his own on top, leaving my palm exposed. This was no longer the case as within seconds I felt the same scales beneath my hand. It hissed lowly, deciding what to make of me. As it sniffed the air around me I wondered out loud what it was thinking.

"She can smell Slytherin pride all over you. She likes it."

"Only enough not to kill me. I can tell she's barely holding off killing me." I told Tom without a trace of spite or fear in my voice. Simple data was all I had relayed and my tone reflected that.

"That's very true." he was still smiling and I didn't exactly take to the fact that we could discuss my possible death as if it were a joke over tea and biscuits.

"Can I ask why you blindfolded me from a giant snake?" that time I **_was_** rather bitter with him.

"She is much more than a snake, my dear. She is a basilisk."

"A basilisk?" I allowed the words to drawl in unconvinced sloth.

"Indeed. And a fierce one at that, I daresay she loves the taste of fresh blood."

"How sweet, you sound proud." I was still being sardonic.

"I am and you should be as well! This beauty's going to rid the school of mudbloods you know."

"**_You cooked up a basilisk to go on a killing spree?_**"

"Why Lydia, here I thought you were rallying for the cause as well."

"Of course I am, just…not…Tom! You're a mudblood too!"

"I am the heir of Slytherin above all else."

"So this is what you meant by creatures that can kill you with their eyes?"

"You do catch on quick, don't you."

"Would you stop mocking me, this is serious!" I had turned around, my outrage boiling to the point that he had better have been glad I was smarter than to remove my blindfold. Speaking of why I couldn't take it off, the creature behind me sensed a threat to Tom the second hostility hit the air. She rounded up and I heard her give a more threatening hiss. The kind that told me she would not hold back if protecting Tom become a priority. If all the snakes in Great Britain had been women, I swear Tom would have been a playboy.

My enmity subsided, as well as everything else I had been feeling, as his hands came to rest on my shoulders. All I could soak up was the fuzzy feeling of being numb and half knocked out. That's probably why his next words didn't phase me.

"No, I don't think so. I rather like mocking you Lydie. You'll understand I'm sure, since you have taken pleasure in mocking me since first year." He turned me to face the basilisk once more, "I'll need your help to kill him and you **_will_** obey me. If you get caught there will be hell to pay in every direction I quite assure you. But sleep now, you'll need your strength tomorrow."

* * *

When I came back to conscious thought the first thing I took note of was that my entire body felt like rusty metal. My breath spasmed into the quick and short as tears tightened the muscles behind my eyes before rolling down my already damp cheeks. I had been laying on The Chamber floor and as soon as this realization sunk in, my arms attempted to push at least my torso off the ground. Thankfully I was near a wall and used that as leverage in heaving my upper body into sitting. As soon as I accomplished my feeble goal I collapsed against the vertical slab of freezing cold mortar beside me. Goose bumps scattered the breadth of my legs and arms. Now the sobs weren't the only thing making me shake. 

Why was I crying anyway? Was it the pain in my muscles? An emotional overload seemed to weigh heavily on my shoulders, like a dead weight that pulled you under water. But from what?

I gasped nearly silently when I spied the basilisk laying half coiled on the other side of the room and realized that this time I had no blindfold to protect me, and no Tom either. But its shallow breathing and motionlessness told me it was more than likely asleep. Too bad it couldn't have _died_, that god awful beast scared the living daylights out of me. And with good reason I thought. Tom could keep his pet snake and his insanity for all I cared if it meant sharing him with a **_basilisk_**.

Forgive me, I really ought to explain. A basilisk is really no more than just a huge, extremely poisonous snake. Huge as in about 20 yards long and a little over a yard thick. They aren't exactly common and for some very good reasons. The first being that they don't breed in the normal fashion. A basilisk can only be brought about with wizarding assistance and care. The reason most magic folk are hesitant to perform such assistance is that there isn't much of a way to control these beats. I mean, **_obviously_**, they are after all so very much larger than humans it would be impossible to get any kind of word in before it devoured you and went off to look for your friends. That is of course unless you happen to be a parselmouth. Which perfectly horrified me because as we all know, Tom was a parselmouth. The funny thing is I'm quite sure I had been the only one wearing a blindfold the other night and he wasn't afraid at all. It's one thing to be able to control an animal's actions but its powers…

A basilisk, you see, is in possession of an enormous set of great, yellow eyes. How anyone took note of this fact I am unaware because supposedly anyone who looks into these eyes suffers death immediately. And once you're in the presence of one don't even try to use magic in warding it off because its scaly skin is nearly as thick as a dragon's. This is why basilisk breeding has been outlawed since medieval times and I'm sure even if it were perfectly legal, no one would dare try it.

But no, Tom had to go and be the most brilliant and bloody ambitious student ever to roam the halls of Hogwarts. And I of course just had to go making friends with him. Curse the luck…

Hollow sounding footsteps reverberated around the room. From a side alcove pocketed in shadow out walked Tom. He strode over and knelt beside me before presenting me with a goblet of clear liquid.

"No thank you." I croaked, "The last thing I need is more wine."

"It's just water, drink up."

I took the cup and he only stopped watching when I tipped it back. The liquid was room temperature and though it wetted my lips, I dared not drink it. Too little had my trust in Tom waned. That was three separate times I could recall being knocked out in his presence. I was a wretch on his home grounds and the situation was clearly in Tom's favor. There was no need to tip the scales even more.

"What happened?" I demanded of his retreating figure as he walked some feet away to light a torch. A terrible smile spread across his mouth. The fire that erupted from his wand and burst into a merry dance over the torch reflected a satisfied gleam in his eye. I certainly hadn't imagined it that time.

"Nothing at all, you passed out from being so induced with alcohol."

"And you left me here?"

"I let you sleep it off, you don't sound very grateful."

Avoiding his eyes I mumbled almost incoherently "Sorry." I felt almost obligated to do so. Not being able to help myself any longer and figuring it was silly thinking it might not be safe, my lips met the goblet once more and I drank with a fierce longing. I'd been much more parched than I had bothered to realize.

"How long was I out?"

"It's Sunday evening." he told me, kneeling beside me on the ground.

I nearly choked on my water. He had brought me here on Saturday night, how could it be that 24 hours already had passed?

"Are you sure? I mean I just fell asleep and it was-maybe it's early morning, did you check a clock or just daylight?"

"It was 10:32 pm when I checked the clock in The Entrance Hall."

"Is that where you just came from?"

"Yes, that's why you have water, I took it from the kitchens."

"And no food?"

"Gluttony is a sin." he chuckled.

"Well I haven't eaten in over a day, I skipped supper to get drunk remember?" my own smile not far behind as he leaned closer.

"You should have thought of that before." our lips met briefly after he spoke and a full fledged grin broke out on my face. "If we go any farther with that, you'll need to brush your teeth." he laughed.

Not exactly the response I'd expected. Humility was **_not _**one of my virtues and the blush on my cheeks showed that blatantly. Then again, it wasn't my fault I'd been left alone on a floor for a whole day, how did he expect me to keep up dental hygiene? Certainly not with the Chamber water.

"Alright, alright." standing, I dusted my robes off, failing to rid my clothes of their dirty water stains. "I suppose we'd best be getting back, hmm?"

He stayed seated, taking my hand and pulling down for me to do the very same. His features fell grave and I couldn't help but feel uneasy. It was my turn to kneel.

"What's the matter?"

"We can't go back, not yet."

My face reflected my worry, "Why? What's happened?"

"There's been another attack. It isn't safe in the halls, that's why I came down here to check on you."

"Well won't they be looking for you, I-I'm sure they'll understand."-

"Lydia none of them know of my heritage, or of the Chamber having been found. When it was noticed that you were unaccounted for I volunteered to go looking for you. I was worried anyways." his hand fondly found my cheek. I laid a hand of my own over his and smiled gently.

"I'm fine, obviously. But who was attacked? Are they alright?"

"They died, just as Miss Tresky."

I frowned, "Another death? Tom this is getting serious. Tell me it was at least another mudblood."

"No, that's why I was worried about you."

"Who then?" What if Celeste had died? What if it was…

"Gregory."

I could have fainted right then, but I refrained. A sigh left my lungs as I rested back against the wall, stunned. Who was doing this? Why would anyone go after Greg? The only person I knew who had feelings of resentment for him was Tom, but he had been with **_me_** yesterday. We had been in the Chamber…

"Oh God…" voicing my thoughts aloud had been an accidental mistake and I paid for it.

"What is it?"

"Tom, the basilisk, are you sure you have control over it?" I asked desperately. Apparently that was not the reaction he had expected as his look was a surprised frown.

"Pardon?"

"Don't you remember the legend? Slytherin built this chamber to house a beast that only he could control-a creature that would rid the school of mudbloods."

"You have a terrible memory, do you know that? Dèpit was a pureblood."

I rolled my eyes, "I know **_that_**, I dated him for a whole year."

"Well then what are you getting at?" he urged me on in his confusion.

"Well, Amelia was a mudblood and you really had it in for Gregory." I sighed, knowing I still wasn't getting the point out clearly, "Here's the thing, that basilisk is terribly fond of you. You quite evidently have a natural way of snake charming, shall we say. I think it's safe to say she would kill for you."

To my bewilderment, Tom only chuckled, "Yes, she would."

"Right…well maybe she went after Greg. Knowing how you resented him and all…"

"Maybe she went after him knowing how **_you _**resented him." Why had that come out sounding like flattery?

"I doubt it, she tolerates me and little else."

"It was you who said you hated him after all, not I."

"When did I"-

"Last night, don't you remember?"

Thinking back for a moment, all I could recall was feeling hot and feverish in the study before feeling cold and almost afraid in The Chamber. My head shook 'no'.

"No, I don't really remember anything that happened last night. I was so drunk." Oddly I felt shame to admit that to the man beside me even if it had been he who had knowingly set the cup in my hands.

"You remember coming to The Chamber, don't you?"

"Only just." I was disappointed in my memory, how much had I missed last night? "For all I know I could have sent the basilisk after **_you_**. I honestly don't remember."

"Well," he wrapped an arm around my shoulder in warm comfort, "You have nothing to fear, she's perfectly in my control." Resting on his shoulder I did feel safer. But I could hardly believe him. If he had so much control over that stupid monster then why was Gregory dead?

"That doesn't change the fact that Greg died, you know."

He let out a deep breath, "Lydie, not to sound cynical, because God forbid we're only in Slytherin, but you're making it sound like you actually cared. As if you still had feelings for him."

"That isn't what I meant, of course."

"Enlighten me then, what did you mean?"

"He was just…I had known him for so long and…it's just strange how close he was-had been. And now he's just gone."

"He put you through hell." Tom said softly.

"Yes, thank you for reminding me." I hadn't meant to sound so bitter, not really.

"I wasn't trying to"- Tom sighed, restraining his temper. "I was only reminding you that he deserved what he got. You shouldn't waste your pity."

"Who said anything about pity?"

"You sounded as though you felt bad."

"Well of course I feel bad, I mean I knew his parents as well. It's a terrible tragedy for them. But it's not like his death is really that big of a deal for **_me_**."

"At least you won't have to marry him."

"Thank God." I laughed and Tom did as well. It echoed gently against the Chamber and I felt much better. Perhaps I wasn't about to tell Tom, but I **_had_** felt pity when the news had first hit me. Greg had been such a large part of my life for so long and suddenly he was just…dead. But Tom had been right, I was acting like I belonged in Gryffindor. That bastard didn't deserve a second of my thought for everything he'd ever done, everything he'd ever said. Everything he **_hadn't_** done when we were together. "Oh Tom," I half sighed, still laughing, "I hope there is a hell and I hope Greg's found it."

He chuckled and raised my goblet of water, "Cheers."


	9. Lord Voldemort

A/N: Dear Mayumi, thanks so much for your review! And I've been Las Vegas for a week and only just got back on July 19th and never got the chance to snag a copy of HBP until just before my connecting flight home from Denver to Orlando. But rest assured I do have it and I am very much looking forward to reading more scenes with Lord Voldemort. I do love him, crazed though he is. I'm afraid that I, like Dumbledore, just cannot seem to see past the fact that under those red eyes is our beloved, if tragically lost, Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Dear Mk: Thanks for your review as well. And, though I may not know the nature or the precise number of attacks Tom conducted, I do know that there was most likely more than one (Book two: "You mean all these attacks, sir?"-Tom consulting Armando Dippet). These probably didn't result in death but rather in petrification. However, due to the nature of my story, Amelia will remain dead as will Gregory and possibly a few others at random. Also, I must say I agree so far with your view point of book six. Have a nice day ;)

To everyone, you guys are wonderful with the reviews! Thanks to all who do and don't. Your reading is deeply appreciated either way. By the way, obviously (to those who have read HPB) this story isn't terribly canon nowadays. Crying shame really. Anyways, just know this was all written before we could read the sixth book and I've already got everything else planned out and nothing's changing. So there we are, thanks guys.

-Chalet

**Chapter Eight: Lord Voldemort**

Twenty minutes or so later we began taking appropriate actions to get me back upstairs. How we were to do this unnoticed was my only concern and I expressed that quite openly to Tom as we started the long walk out of The Chamber. The basilisk took no notice and slept on.

"On the way down, didn't you notice the assortment of other pipes?"

"Of course, there must have been dozens."

"I've explored them all, the third up from the bottom on the right leads into the girls' bathroom in the Slytherin dorms."

My mouth nearly fell open, "How many girls' bathrooms have you been in?" I asked, stressing the words.

He chortled, "The chamber is designed to allow for maneuverance through out the school. The only way a basilisk can perform such action undetected, is through…"

"The plumbing." I copied his smile, catching on.

"Precisely! I can take you anywhere from here, so long as there's a vent and pipes nearby."

"A vent?" I cocked a curious eyebrow.

"Well yes, unless you'd rather try and fit through the sink fountain."

"Oh…no, a vent is fine." my original resentment towards the idea was suddenly absent.

"If you're sure." he chuckled. With some assistance from Tom, I crawled into the small tunnel and we made our rather slow way up, holding our feet out against the sides for leverage. Upon reaching the pipe that would take us to my dormitory toilet we were again afforded the luxury of returning to ground horizontal, even if it was barely large enough around to crawl through.

The pipe was grimy and sweaty, and my knees got muddier than my robes, and once or twice I shrieked at the sight of scurrying rats, the likes of which Tom paralyzed instantly. But over all, I was willing to admit that the experience could have been much worse. Stopping outside the vent that was situated beside the sinks and on the wall opposite the showers, Tom and I stood stock still to listen for any signs of human presence. With none detected we made our careful way into the bathroom, crawling onto the floor first before rising up.

"Sweet sorcery!" I groaned dramatically catching my appearance in the nearest mirror. It was dreadful. My hair was greasy and needed a good washing, my skin was covered in thin, black muck. My clothes had stains all over them and my make up was smeared just enough to make me look like I had attempted to put too much of the stuff on.

"Now you see what I've got to deal with." he laughed playfully.

"Ha ha, very funny. **_God_** I need a shower. " I shook my head and set to washing my face and quickly brushing my teeth at the sink.

"Well, I'll leave you to it then." Tom patted my shoulder, making to leave back through the vent.

"Ooh," I spit into the sink, turned and moaned softly in protest, only then realizing he had to leave me, "Must you really?"

"Unless you'd rather I take a shower **_with_** you, yes I'm afraid I'll need to be getting back." he chuckled.

A sigh left my mouth heavily and I sauntered back to him for goodbye, "Hmm, tempting, but I think I'll have to pass. We're lucky we didn't get caught _sneaking in_, if anyone finds us in the showers we're done for. Such a shame the dorms aren't co-ed. It gets **_so_** cold at night during the winter." my eyes were dancing with just as much playfulness as my smirk and I laid a hand on his chest, biting my lower lip.

"Let it snow." Tom leered, leaning down. I hadn't been lying, the castle got dreadfully cold come January and I had to say, his warm mouth was quite the escape from the bitter chill that had settled into my skin upon spending a night on a stone floor without blankets or sheets. We were reluctant to let one another go, pecking for more every time the other pulled back. I had never had that much fun kissing Gregory…

"Oh God." that time I pulled fully out of his arms and backed off a few feet. The thought of the dead boy in such proximity sent a morbid terror into my brain.

"What?" Tom only followed, concerned. I couldn't tell him the truth, we'd already been down that road.

"I just remembered how anyone could walk in at any moment. You really have to go, after the whole prefect's bath incident we have to be careful."

He surveyed me for a moment, knowing I was lying. But Tom wouldn't pry tonight, he would play the hero and back off at my request.

"Alright, what should I tell them about your being in the bathroom?"

"Don't. Just…tell them you couldn't find me, I'll think of something." I winked before waving him off and watching him disappear into the dark shadows of the vent. As I watched him retreat, I couldn't help but think sarcastically _'How romantic…'_

My shower consisted of little more than soap, water and trying to push Greg out of my mind. It was as if I had already seen his body because I couldn't seem to shove the mental snapshots of his corpse lying dead on a floor from my mind. Obviously I was just traumatized. Not to mention confused.

What was wrong with me? I was a Slytherin. A cold hearted, ruthless, smart, unattached, playing my cards right, good little Slytherin. So why did I have to care so much? Greg was finally out of my life, couldn't I just be glad that mess was gone and get over it?

Deciding I needed to get out and get to bed, I finished up and toweled off before non-chalantly walking into my dorm room.

"Lydia!"

"Great goblins where have you been?"

"She's back!"

Surprise hit me full on as did the sound of my dorm mates rushing to meet me at the bathroom door. They all seemed amazed at my presence, not to mention confused. At least they didn't seem angry or anything.

"Well, well, if it isn't Miss Drama Queen herself." I'd spoken too soon as Celeste took her sulky time in sauntering over to me with her arms crossed and a stone hard look on her face. The fact that she had been crying earlier was evident in her puffy cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Pushing her way past all the other girls Celeste took her place right in front of me, voicing what I'm sure the others had been thinking. "Finally decide to show up again?"

"Is that alright with you?" I asked calmly, crossing my own arms and shifting my weight.

"Not really, but all I really want is an explanation." the other girls watched in silence obviously wanting explanations of their own.

"So would I, what are you going on about?"

"You know what I'm going on about! Gregory is dead!" the shout seemed to have been boiling inside her for a while and I knew if she'd had her way she'd be screaming the stars from the sky.

"Trust me, I've heard." I sighed, throwing my towel on top of my trunk and walking straight through the crowd that had gathered in front of me to take a seat on my bed.

"Oh yah? From who?" it was then that I realized this was _seriously _bothering her…

'_Snakes._' I wanted to tell her, but I knew better. "Everyone's talking about it, it's rather hard to miss." I mumbled, unsure of where I was going with my lie as I picked up my hair brush from my desk and set to undoing the knots in my wet hair.

"Who have you talked to when you've been missing!"

"She's got a point Lydia, where have you been?"

"Yah, what's going on?" the other girls joined in the rally of questioning me to death. Before I could answer Celeste took it upon herself to say what was really on her heart.

"I know it was you, you little blood traitor. I know it had something to do with that bastard Riddle. And I swear if it's the last thing I do, I'll prove it was him and I'll get him expelled."

I stood from my bed at her threat, gritting my teeth.

"You'll do no such thing you idiot wench! Your argument is with **_me_**, you've got no vice with Tom, he hasn't done a thing to you."

"Not yet he hasn't. Gregory got his turn, I'm just waiting for mine."

"He didn't **_kill _**anyone!"

"Oh and you would know, where were you taking Gregory this afternoon anyway?"

"What?" what was she talking about? I hadn't seen Greg since Saturday afternoon and I certainly hadn't "taken him" anywhere. My oblivious eyes searched the other girls in bewilderment.

"You were the last person to see him Lydia, come on then, we all want to know what happened." Bianca Lennox spoke up, albeit in a much more sedated tone than Celeste.

"Honestly, what are you all talking about?"

Bianca sighed and rolled her eyes, "Don't play dumb with us, we were all there in the Great Hall you know."

"Would the two of you stop being accusing bitches for one second and hear what I'm trying to tell you, I wasn't even **_in _**the Great Hall today."

"Really? And what, the four of us just imagined the whole thing did we?" Celeste snapped

"If you weren't in the Great Hall then where were you?" Bianca asked.

What could I say? That I didn't remember?

Actually…

"Let's say I blacked out and can't remember a thing, would one of you please tell me what happened?" surveying each of the girls, I waited for an answer. Maggie McCrae was the only one willing to answer.

"I wasn't sitting near you both when it happened but from what I saw, and from what I've heard, you went up to Greg at lunch this afternoon and asked him if he'd talk to you in private for a moment and after he went neither of you returned. Greg's body wasn't found until just after dinner when the janitor went to check on the boiler room before going to bed."

"He was just laying there, no damage done to him. He wasn't poisoned or choked or strangled. In fact from what I've heard he was in perfect health, save the fact that he was dead." Bianca recounted what she knew, picking up where Maggie left off.

"So, how did **_you_** get back?"

"Where did you go?"

"What happened to Greg?"

Sighing at the bombardment of queries, I sat once more on my bed.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you so what's the point?" I drawled lazily.

"Would you stop fucking with us and spit it out already?" I could swear this whole ordeal was driving Celeste mad. But then maybe I was getting some kind of twisted pleasure out of that. I liked seeing people squirm after all, flail about in complete, frustrated, emotional overload as it got them absolutely nowhere.

"Look, I woke up on the bathroom floor. I can't remember anything passed lunch on Saturday, so whatever happened today is beyond me." Tom had some major explaining to do when I saw him. What the hell was going on? Upwards of four people had seen me ask Gregory to go into the halls and then he just turns up dead while I don't turn up at all? I couldn't blame Celeste, I would be freaking out and throwing accusations left and right too if I were her.

"What are you saying?"

No, I take that back. Celeste was just plain daft.

"How thick **_are _**you, exactly? Didn't you hear me? I can't get much more straightforward than what I just told you." I threw back the sheets of my bed and started settling in.

"So, basically you're claiming that either the entire school was hallucinating, you have amnesia, or you were under the Imperius curse." Bianca sighed, listing off the possibilities.

"Looks like it." I called, laying down and ruffling my pillows.

She rolled her eyes and turned on her heal, taking with her the whole pack.

'_Thank God, now I can finally get some sleep.' _It was the oddest thing too, I was exhausted. You'd think that if after 24 hours of rest, I'd be bouncing off the walls. Before I drifted off I could hear the soft whispers of my dorm mates. Blood Traitor they were calling me.

"I never thought I'd see the day when _she_ would turn away from us…" Bianca sighed.

* * *

"Miss Delatorre, this is the second time you and Mr. Riddle have both found yourselves under scrutiny. Things are not looking very well." Headmaster Dippet was looking intently across his desk at not just Tom and I, but Celeste and Jonathon as well. They were the best witnesses since they had been sitting beside Gregory before I had allegedly asked him to have a chat in the hallway.

"I understand Professor," my tone wasn't charming as it usually was, but rather somber. I had been so sure that the event of Gregory's death had been a clean one and now I was being dragged up in yet another mess. "However, I've said it before and I shall say it again, I honestly do not recall asking Gregory to talk with me."

He waved me down with his hand, motioning for me to calm down, "Yes Miss Delatorre, I have not forgotten your testament. And I do want to believe you, you must know."

"Professor I must protest!" Celeste blurted out in a show of complete lack of grace. I wanted to roll me eyes, but somehow I kept my composure. Tom's hand was so close as it lay across the arm rest of the chair on my right. It seemed it would be so easy to take it and relish some sense of comfort but I knew I just couldn't. Any small action of nervousness could be later translated as fear and if I was innocent, clearly there should be nothing to fear.

"Yes Miss Caldwell?"

"Professor please, I'm begging you. Gregory was one of my closest and dearest friends, you cannot allow his death to pass in vain. There must be justice shown." Her fist met the headmaster's desk in aggressive defiance.

Merlin, was she ever dramatic. And long winded as well, for it appeared that Celeste hadn't quite finished.

"This girl," at her reference I received a pointer finger in the face, I suppose to indicate who exactly she was talking about. As though Dippet didn't already know, honestly. "Breaks things off with Gregory only to leave him for this mudblood"-

"Ah, ah, watch your language Miss Caldwell." Dippet gave her a deep frown before sighing and motioning for her to continue never the less.

"She left him for one of the few people who Gregory truly despised."

"Gregory despised a lot of people." I cut in with my token contradiction.

"He despised Tom especially and Lydia went to Tom **_just_** to spite him."

"That's a lie!" now I was standing, just as she had been and I was right in front of the little hag. "Gregory doesn't deserve an ounce of credit for mine and Tom's friendship."

"If you had things your way you wouldn't give Gregory an ounce of credit for anything." she snarled.

"Wow, hell of a comeback." I drawled, leaning back on my hip and surveying her with a wry smirk.

"Look at her! She doesn't care about Gregory's death!" Celeste had turned back to the headmaster. It was then that I knew the whole ordeal was ridiculously useless. No one was going to get anywhere arguing like this, least of all a pack of stubborn Slytherins.

"Tell me something Celeste, why is it that Gregory hated Tom so much? Was it **_really _**his bloodline? Are you **_really _**sure?"

"Well, what else could it be? Certainly not his prefect badge." she growled. She really thought I was an idiot and personally it amused me that she would underestimate me so after having known me for so long.

"No, I think it was something else, I think he was threatened." I crossed my arms and returned to my seat.

"Oh please, by what?" she did the same.

"Don't you remember? Greg and I broke up after you all learned that I was friendly with Riddle. He had been absolutely itching to tell you all and to hear the spite in his voice." I clucked my tongue a few times afterwards, shaking my head in mock remorse.

"You were his girlfriend, I think he had every right to be spiteful." Jonathon growled at me.

"Why? Because I was his property? Because he was afraid that Tom and I might become more than friends? Now how could he be so afraid of someone who was supposedly on a lower level than himself."

"Lydia, we're getting away from the subject…" Dippet chanced to cut in on my interrogation.

"Oh I think we're just getting around to it." I glared over at Celeste.

"Look, the point stands that you are the one in question here and not Miss Caldwell. Now Tom, perhaps you can help us. What did you see happen at lunch yesterday?"

"I'm afraid I didn't sir. I never take lunch in the Great Hall but instead prefer to study in the library. You can ask anyone."

The headmaster looked to Celeste and Jonathon. They knew this was something of a blow to their case as they couldn't deny he was _always_ absent at lunch and his doing so Sunday was nothing out of the ordinary. Solemnly, they begrudgingly nodded their approval of his statement.

Dippet sighed, "Well I suppose that clears any suspicions in **_your_** direction." he nodded at Tom and looked back at me. "We'll need to investigate your case further though, Miss DelaTorre. Do you think it at all possible that you were acting under the Imperius Curse?"

Instinctively I glanced at Tom for a moment before exchanging looks with Dippet, "I…suppose it's possible…" If I had been under the curse the only person to have done would with out a shadow of a doubt be the prefect seated beside me as I had only been in his company. Suddenly I felt more naïve than I had ever thought I would as every odd occurrence in the past 48 hours suddenly came together. Still, I didn't wish to believe it. Nor would I be a snitch and tell Dippet what I knew. I would draw out with Tom myself.

"Well, so long as you give me your word that you don't know anything else, I am under obligation to let you all go. However if there ever comes a time when you should come into knowledge about the situation I would be much obliged if you would inform me. Until then, the castle is under an official lock down. You are to go straight to your dormitories and no where else. Good day to you."

The moment we were back in the corridors Jonathon drew his wand from his robes, pointing it at Tom who, like I, stopped dead in his tracks at the sudden threat. Celeste took her place just behind him, stone faced.

"We know you killed him and we will get you both expelled if it kills us." John said in a low and careful voice. Stealthily to the point that I hadn't even seen him do it, Tom took out his own wand and was now an equal opponent.

"If I'm not mistaken being dead is a bit lower on the ladder than being expelled. Do try and use that brain of yours next time your open your mouth. I'm sure you've got one as you can't have been put into Slytherin for sheer over-dramatics alone." With that Tom turned on his heel, pocketing his wand. I could only follow, waiting until we'd turned at least two corners to grab his arm in a forceful attempt to have him slow down.

"You have so much to explain, it's not even funny." I murmured shrewdly. He raised his eyebrows.

"Why would it be?" Tom asked, yanking his arm away.

"What the hell happened down in the Chamber? I know you killed Greg, and I know you used me to do it."

"Now you sound like your friends back there."

"You know they aren't my friends," I sighed, opting to battle through his mistrust before working out his murky motives.

"You'll do well to remember that." he told me darkly before setting off again. Outraged at his nerve, I hurried to catch up with him.

"How dare you"-

He turned on me, unimpressed "How dare I **_what _**exactly? Tell you the truth. Forgive me." he snarled.

"Listen here, you cheeky bastard," I fired up, "You don't exactly like it when I tell you about **_yourself_** either."

"Well, that's because you're usually **_wrong_**, now aren't you?"

A deep breath settled itself in my lungs as my jaw set and I avoided looking at him until we'd stepped off the staircases and were on the ground floor again. I realized that confronting him alone would be unwise just then. For the time being I would need to simply do all in my power to keep and perhaps even boost his trust in me.

"Look, I don't want to fight with you."

"You can't afford it is what you mean." he said, tonelessly.

"Tom, stop, will you!" at last he yielded his marching assault upon the marble floor and turned to me.

"I don't want this between us. I can't stand it. Yes, you're the only person I have but you're the only person who matters, _please_." He was hesitant to believe me for a moment, glowering into my face like a wolf in battle before nodding.

"I don't even care if you set that basilisk on Greg, honestly. I'm just grateful I won't have to marry him. Just tell me will you. I'm being harassed in every direction and I don't even**_ know _**the truth I'm being forced to lie about."

He took a deep breath, "I didn't want to frighten you."

"I understand. But it's reckless what you're doing, don't you see?"

"You were the one who asked me to kill him." Tom took a defensive step forward, justifying his actions.

"And I thank you," I said, trying still to calm him and convince him that I was honestly still on his side, "However, next time you need dirty work done, _do not curse me to get me to do it for you._" I half threatened, with a pointer finger in his face. His cheeks went slightly pink but he nodded in a way that conveyed all the composure he usually held.

"Sorry about that, love."

"Just see that it doesn't happen again, are we clear?"

He half nodded, half grimaced and we went on our way. I don't think Tom made mistakes often so when he did slip up, it was a particularly nasty shock.

Once we reached the common room, a small crowd of about four shady looking chaps surrounded the pair of us and forced us into a dark corner of the room before any other course could be taken. I soon realized, as they were all speaking in oily voices to Tom as though his children or something that these were his friends. The more I watched the interaction between them all the more it became apparent that this was all they were, Tom's friends and not friends **_of_** Tom. The subtle difference was that Tom wasn't very friendly back to them. Yet they clung to him as though in hope of some kind of reward. The largest oddity by far which I couldn't figure out for the life of me, was that none of them called him Tom. It was always, "What happened to you, my Lord?" and "Ah yes my Lord, I've never liked that Caldwell girl either."

Not being asked any questions of myself and merely sitting in silence, I observed the group: three boys and one girl. Two of the boys were thug looking, with large muscles and dim brains. The other boy was on the wiry side who sat with a hunched back and sported slick, greasy hair. He sat on the edge of his seat constantly as though hanging on every word of Tom's tale. His questions were the most frequent and it was hard to bring an end to his constant sycophantry. The last was the only body there I found worthy of my company in the least. She was a red headed girl with hazel eyes and a slim figure. The girl sat back in her chair, legs crossed while watching intently and making a few snide inquiries here and there. I wondered why I'd never noticed her before and if she was so witty and quiet why wasn't she in Ravenclaw? From what I gathered, the two thugs were called Mulciber and Dolohov by surname. The string bean's name was Liam Nott and the single female was only ever addressed as Faux. It sounded like an idiotic nickname to me but I figured I'd wait for an explanation before passing too much judgment.

Glancing around in mild boredom, I noticed that the common room was full to bursting. Every Slytherin in the castle must have been there. It occurred to me then that it was a Monday and we must really be on some sort of lock down if classes weren't being held. Perhaps the school authorities were hoping to catch the culprit in the act or at least slow him down a bit. Smirking to myself I realized that they were dumb out of luck if that was their goal. Tom was too quick and too knowledgeable for them. If he wished to visit The Chamber all he had to do was crawl through the vents in his dorm bathroom and they couldn't very well stop him from doing **_that_**. It was then that the fact of Tom being the individual who was attacking everyone sunk in. Why attack now? Why at all?

Glancing across at him I noticed his black diary sitting beside him on the small table and took care to watch for a moment when he was too indulged in a chat with Liam Nott to notice my snagging it. Grabbing a book off of the shelf beside us, I hid the diary and flipped around at will hoping I'd find some thing; a motive, a rant, anything.

Well, I found plenty of rants. About Dumbledore's nosiness, about how much he hated his mother for dying when clearly she should have been able to save herself since she was a witch, and about how much of a bastard his father was. I found out the red headed girl's name was Elle Rosier and her nickname sprouted from her ability to perform the animagus spell, her animal form being that of a fox. I read tell of teachers being manipulated and of bullying Liam Nott into doing his bidding. The most interesting of his entries was marked in December. He told of my home and how much he enjoyed the luxurious surroundings, how he had deserved them all of his life, how now he'd had a taste of them he wasn't letting them go, even more determined now then before to gain them. Though I was somewhat deflated when I was unsuccessful in finding any notes about myself, I had to admit, I'd never read words more passionate in my life. As I continued on I came across what looked like a single player game of hangman. Letters crossed out and rearranged bellow over and over again. Upon close inspection I realized he was rearranging his full name time and time again, but for what? The pages turned quicker in my hands as my curiosity burned alight. Finally the scribbled out letters ended with a phrase that had been manically traced over and over again and one which explained quite a lot.

_**I am Lord Voldemort. **_

Below this was another entry that went on to detail how he would shed his filthy muggle father's name, opting instead with this newer more fitting title. I noted he had kept his original letters, which to me seemed as though he wanted his real name to mean something after all, if at least in another form. Or perhaps it was supposed to symbolize his being the same person behind another alias. It was then that I truly saw the reason for the change: the name Voldemort would certainly wield more influence and burn brighter in a victim's memory than the terribly common Tom Riddle. From there on out he had signed all of his entries as this 'Lord Voldemort'. I had to say, as odd as it was, I rather liked his new name. It had a certain commanding quality about it. And yet a shadow loomed about it as well, as though within was hiding a forbidden secret.

'_Some day,' _his diary read, _'Muggles and Wizards alike will fear the mere mention of this name. I will be more powerful than Grindelwald himself.'  
_

I looked up, over my book and surveyed him. He wasn't the worthless mudblood orphan I had thought he was. Not the perfect little prefect with a tragic past. How wrong I had been, how assuming. I hadn't believed him before or at least I had terribly underestimated him. But to read how vehement about his intentions he really was…I couldn't help but be convinced that he would accomplish all he set out to do. And I had to admit, this was a very seductive quality. Someday the black haired, green eyed boy in front of me would harness more power than I could even fathom. He would hold the world in his hands and conduct every movement as a puppet master did with marionettes. As I have mentioned before I was terribly attracted to power and I was **_already _**terribly attracted to Tom. This new gen certainly didn't help loosen my feelings, despite all the doubts I had been facing as of late.

Still in deep thought an hour later, I was at least in a thinner amount of company. Tom's little fan club had finally left at his request. I suppose he'd noticed my quiet, distant demeanor and had grown curious. He wasn't the only one.

I threw his book onto the table so it slid to a stop right before him. He cocked an eyebrow and slipped it back into the inner pocket of his robes.

"Thank-you." was his surprised response.

"No problem, _my Lord_." I bit off with my head tilted in want of an explanation.

"Ah, I see you picked up on their affections."

"Quite."

"And I'll assume you read about it as well."

"It would seem so, huh?"

"Yes. Now what are you so tiffed about?"

"I'm just taken a back is all, _Lord Voldemort_."

A crooked smile spread over his face like melting butter over toast. "I like the way you say that." he murmured.

"Good, because I like the way it sounds."

"Do you, really?"

"Mm, you mind me calling you that from now on?" I asked softly.

"Actually, I invite it."

"Splendid. Does anyone else know?"

"Just the Death Eaters."

I frowned, "Death Eaters?"

He waved his hand casually toward the other corner of the room, "My friends."

"Your followers you mean, I didn't see much of a friendly relationship going on between you all."

"Very perceptive of you."

"I do try, my Lord." I smirked. "Why do they cling to you so?"

"A number of reasons, manipulation, my own charm, protection, weakness, power hunger, many things."

"You know, I had forgotten you'd even had other friends for a while. They won't have to be my friends too, will they." I scowled.

"No, but I think you'll enjoy Elle's company, the red head. She's wickedly smart and a very good listener."

"So I noticed, she seemed a bit more fit for Ravenclaw."

Tom laughed, "No, you'll find that she can be manipulative something fierce, but she's terribly subtle about it. Wonderful girl." he sighed thoughtfully. I felt a spark of jealousy.

"Your not-I mean you and her-have you ever"-

"No, I fancied her for a small time back in fourth year but that soon waned."

"Why so?"

He shrugged, "My ambition for power and knowledge left no room for the affections of hormonal distress."

I nodded, somewhat unsure now of where exactly I stood in Tom's world. Was there room for **_my _**affections?

"And how about now? How's that hormonal distress treating you as of late?"

"Oh it's terrible I dare say." he chuckled, catching my meaning. "How could I expect anything less with such a girl as yourself always in my company."

I smiled, but it was only half genuine. Remembering Dumbledore's offer of an open office I decided I would be going to Dumbledore the first chance I got. Even if he was a prat, he was probably the only person in the entire castle, besides Celeste and Jonathon, who shared my new found wariness of Tom. Meaning he was probably the only person who could help me.

* * *

A/n: Shaky chapter, I know. But the next one promises to be much better. At least in the way of death threats and fun things like that. By the way, the next chapter may very well be the last. Perhaps it'll come sooner if you review…? 


	10. Addicted

A/N: sigh So much to say. First and foremost a big thanks to every single reviewer. My readers must be the best, I love you guys, Thanks! ;) Secondly, I've worked in pre-schools and no toddler I have ever encountered has ever given me as much trouble as this story. This chapter in particular showed me exactly what 'Tough love' really means. I had to re-write it over and over and over again. If it still isn't up to par feel free to tell me. I am truly sorry it took so long, you haven't a clue. Btw, I lied (not on purpose I assure you). There'll be one more chapter after this and then an epilogue. ;)

Also, Dear Lidell: Hi! Thanks for your lengthy response, it was genuinely helpful and had the intention of trying to be so, so for that I really must tell you it was much appreciated. However, I'm not quite sure what you mean by 'Lydia hasn't shown her vanity'. Pride comes in many others fashions than just staring at yourself in a mirror and loving what you see (which Lydia also did numerously). It can be allowing yourself to be terribly judgmental because you believe you're on a higher level than other people, or underestimating consequences that might come upon you because you have such belief in your own abilities. On that note, this chapter is definitely the breaking point of where Lydia's pride is going to get her in trouble. Hope you enjoy!

-Chalet

**Chapter Nine: Addicted**

When classes resumed they did so with great vengeance. For three straight weeks I was bogged down so heavily with N.E.W.T. work I could barely move, most nights opting to set up an entire fort of books around me and setting to study. This took me straight into the middle of March before I even had time to _think_ on personal matters. That certainly was saying something as my 'personal matters' were not the normal menstrual cycle or emotional roller coaster every girl in my year also faced. No, I had much more troubling affairs at hand. What were Tom Riddle's motives and how could I relay them to Dumbledore?

The latter issue proved particularly troublesome. The more I thought about the conclusion I had drawn, the more I found myself in the middle of a self inflicted ping-pong match. True, I was obviously leaning more towards turning Tom in. But somewhere along the course of the last six months Tom had gotten to me rather more than I had previously imagined. So much more in fact that my thoughts of just keeping quiet and trusting him were more than fleeting. It was incredibly uncharacteristic for someone such as myself to choose nurture (meaning romance) over nature (meaning the instinct that told me to run away from Tom). However, in some lights, it really wasn't. Too long had it been since I was a naïve toddler and had felt raw emotion for people that wasn't contaminated by protective walls, fear and harsh judgment. For a few fleeting moments I had had something real with Tom and I had felt…well far away from the independent and restless girl I had grown to be. I was simply clinging to what I had been given; even if what I had been given was lies.

And **_were_ **they lies? Did Tom have feelings for me as I had thought? Or had he been using me for something he considered bigger than love?

The rationale in me knew the answer to this almost immediately, but the affection I felt for him had to go and turn every clear cut answer into a murky mess of emotional denial. Perhaps he **had**been using me, but I wanted to think otherwise. Being the conceited and pampered princess I was, it was rather easy to keep on believing. After all, wasn't it entirely likely that he had accidentally fallen for me as I had for him? Couldn't have been _that_ hard, really, look at me.

This mental wrestling over what I really wanted to do caused another two weeks or so to slip through my fingers. By then April had set in. You may ask what I did with Tom for a whole month. Well, school work was an issue for both of us and he seemed even more wrapped up than I was. Surely every time I looked over at him I found him nose deep in thick, ancient looking texts. Some nights he would go missing for reasons I did not want to think about. Every morning after I would wake, praying no one else had died because I had kept my mouth shut. I had never regarded myself as a coward, but love certainly was making a fool of me.

There was that treacherous word again. Did I love Tom? _Really love him_, despite what in knew? I thought-sometimes-there was no other name for what I felt. I stared at him often, pondered on him even more, lamented our long gone visits to the prefect's bath and wondered desperately how he felt about me behind all the mistruths. As the spring rain set in, my dueling thoughts often betrayed me and turned to curling up with Tom in his dorm.

And then there was the dark magic.

I saw him studying it constantly and knew it was consuming every part of his being. Sometimes I felt jealous of his books. They were so dear to him and he held them in such high regard it seemed I could sink no lower on his priority list. Other times though, I was jealous of Tom. All that power and all those spells. All the unexplored territory, all the possibilities.

Mind reading, control over objects, control over humans, apparition. One evening I was scanning his latest titles as he'd just come back from the library and noticed something interesting. It was a book called _Illusionment of the Intellect: A Guide to the Physical Psyche_. I had seen the book before with him over Christmas break when he'd come to my house. Why was it back again?

I didn't bother to ask, but merely grabbed it from his mountainous pile, which rivaled my own, on my way to bed one night. With his back hunched over and his nose all but Eskimo kissing his book, Tom took no notice of my larceny what so ever and I traipsed away to my dorm before he could get the chance.

"_Lumos_," I murmured, dropping heavily onto my bed and pulling the curtains all around me. The very first thing I did was scan the book's table of contents.

'Chapter One: Psychology, A Lost Art' went on for just under two-hundred-fifty pages within itself. All in all the sum of pages came to 2,169 or at least that was the last numbered page I could find. Scanning downward, I observed other chapter titles:

Chapter Two: Nature of the Mind, Instinctive Tendencies

Chapter Three: The Mind at Rest, Sleep Patterns and Brain Waves

Chapter Four: Layers of the Brain

Chapter Five: Deciphering the Subconscious

Chapter Six: Controlling the Subconscious

I sat there, stunned and terrified. My memory recollection dreams hadn't been my subconscious trying to work itself out, it had been _Tom_ trying to work my _subconscious _out. My memories, my thoughts, my fears, my past, the reasons for my behaviors. Just as well, he hadn't just been using the Imperius Curse on me, but swaying influence over my subconscious and gripping a hold of all my other senses in order to dull them. But the question still remained: Why?

As horrified as I was to come to this realization, I couldn't help but be somewhat impressed. That was awfully advanced magic for a sixteen-year-old. However, this was the very last bit of news I could handle. Promptly I rose from my bed, nearly tripped on my bed curtains on my way out and made my nimble way down the stairs.

'_I'm not running,' _I told myself, reassuringly, _'I'm…jogging with style.'_

Five seconds short of the common room I stopped to catch my breath as I was a bit smarter than to draw attention to myself by storming out of the common room in a pant. Confident that my heart and lung contraction rate were both under control I set off as noiselessly as I could. I didn't look anyone in the eye, setting my sights on the dungeon door not twenty-five feet away. I could just slip through there easy as pie, no harm done, take a stroll, go to the library, turn in the school's serial killer and possibly wash my hands on the way back.

Even after I left the common room, I was jumpy as anything. The slightest sound, suits of armor creaking, rats squeaking, spiders scuttling, the wind groaning against dungeon chains in far off corners, torches flickering, I thought I saw a few shadows out of the corner of my eyes and whirled around each time to check that Tom had not followed, for surely it would be my neck if he discovered my intentions. There once was a time when this never would have bothered me. I would have laughed and invited the challenge. Let the mudblood just try and see how he measured up to a perfect, pure-blooded pedigree. Grimly, I could not boast this assurance any longer. I knew what Tom was capable of and I wouldn't allow him the luxury of underestimation again.

With a sigh of extreme relief I rose up into the clear light of the high chandelier in the Entrance Hall. Not being able to help myself, I turned my back on the light for a moment and inspected the dark, damp corridor I had just left. I waited in wide-pupilled silence as though expecting something to jump out at any moment. The grip I had been strangling my wand with relieved. With a shaky mind I finally accepted that Tom hadn't followed me and turned back around.

What had I been so paranoid about anyways? What was he going to do, demand his book back? I knew his weapons now, I would resist the drowsy pull he'd always blanketed over me. But what was I saying, I wouldn't need to, he wasn't coming.

He wasn't coming…Why wasn't he coming? Odd really, and him being so observant. He didn't have his prefect's badge for nothing.

Just outside of the library, I was about to drop off the book in my hands when I took a last look at the cover.

'_No, I think I'll show it to Dumbledore. It is my greatest evidence after all.' _Nodding in resolve I turned back to find the Transfiguration classroom I knew so well. _'Hope he's not asleep, the great buffoon…' _I sighed as I hurried up a few steps, the disdainful thoughts more for my own distraction than real dislike.

I had barely set half a foot on the last step when a hard gasp reached my lungs and they contracted too fast for all the air coming in, causing me to falter. No worries, the object of my surprise caught me round the neck and threw me to safety on the carpeted landing. The heavy book in my hands fell to the ground as I barely attained my balance, coughing desperately.

Tom made no move for me but picked up his book instead. He could have easily crushed my wind pipe…but somehow, I think he already knew that.

"Really Lydie, you ought to treat library possessions with greater care." he smirked, dusting off the cover.

"I'll try next time." I choked gruffly, standing and staggering a few deep breaths. I was fine within seconds, if not in shock. I didn't have the luxury to be in a shock at the moment though, I needed to focus on playing my cards right and getting away from him as soon as possible.

"Good. Why are you out of the dungeons so late anyway?"

"Are we back to that again?" I asked, a flirtatious smile my only weapon as I playfully brought up past events. Perhaps I could charm him into leaving me alone. If it had been any other person my abilities wouldn't have been doubted for a second but this wasn't just any other person. This man had proved himself more than my equal.

"I'm afraid we are and I'm afraid you'll need to tell me what you're up to." he said softly. Gingerly I neared him closer still and stood on tip toe, my fingers playing with his robes.

"Why, seducing you of course, _my Lord_." I whispered the last bit for effect and I dare say for a moment or two it worked better than even I thought it was going to, given the cliché and hokey state of my words. At the mention of his nick-name however, I received a hungry kiss that I can't say I didn't enjoy on some level. But then, without warning, I was pushed back against the wall. We stood surveying one another for a few moments before his gaze dropped. His long, white fingers slithered up and encircled my neck, his thumb gingerly caressing my Adam's apple. No true grip was enforced but the threat was there, not only of being strangled but of my emotions getting the best of me. The more he touched me, the deeper an imprint of desire he was leaving on me. I was disgusted with myself for feelings I couldn't help.

"Tell me the truth Lydie." he murmured. Again, Tom conjured his ally, my subconscious, in a silent request to give in. My eyelids fought desperately to stay up and the struggle was so great I was regarding fatigue as a great and looming enemy.

"Returning a book to the li"- my voice was lost for a moment as Tom increased the pressure with which he was caressing my throat. It had hurt and that had helped somewhat in keeping me awake. "To the library."

"You were returning _my_ book to the library, were you? You're a long way from the library little girl." he sneered. But he had given me an idea.

"Well I was turning back. You see I realized it wasn't one of mine and that's why I was bringing it back but then, just before I could drop it in the little slot, it fell and flipped open and I saw your name there, so I started back."

"You saw my name on the _check-out list card_?" he drawled, unimpressed. Apparently by 'my book' he'd been referring to the fact that he'd been the one to check it out. I didn't answer. "I thought as much when you rushed from the common room with the very book I had noticed you steal from my table."

Finally he took his hand away. Still I remained mute.

"Stunned silence is this?" he mocked me. "What are you really up to? You might as well tell me, don't forget I'm a prefect. All I've got to do is take you to Professor Sator."

"What are you threatening me now?" I asked in a tone that was half hurt and half suggested in would have liked to seem him try. I definitely **_didn't_** want to see him try.

"If that need be the course of action, yes, I am."

"Well, take your book then and leave me alone." I started off down the hall, determined now more than ever to get to Professor Dumbledore. I very greatly expected a spell of some sort to force me into staying so he could black mail my mouth shut. And in a way that's exactly what I got.

"You're interested in it, aren't you? That's why you took that book." He'd always been able to get the best of me. Call out that last bit of temptation that would undoubtedly keep me hanging around just a little longer. I couldn't fake as though I didn't know what he meant, especially if he was judging from my actions of stealing a book about the Dark Arts. I felt the heavy weight of disappointment in myself settle onto my shoulders as my footsteps stopped. Turning, I saw the cold intrigue in his striking emerald eyes. It was plain then that I had started to run too late, Tom had already assembled a great arsenal of ammunition to use against me, he already knew my weaknesses, my fears and my ambitions.

Knowing this I should have just plucked on. I should have been stronger and just turned back around. But which had a greater pull to a girl such as myself? Being a stool pigeon or mastering the Dark Arts? Three guesses and the first two don't count.

"What can you show me?" I was quieter than I could remember having ever been before, so unsure of the ground I was treading. And yet a great thrill of greed was pumping in my veins as though I knew there would come into me something so terrible and powerful that nothing else seemed to matter.

"Everything. Anything you'd like my dearest Lydie. But first, I'll need to establish full trust in you."

This seemed to snap me out of my daze.

"How am I supposed to prove it?"

"Come back with me to the Study"-

"No." my answer was instant and issued an air of finality. He only smiled as though a patient parent dealing with a stubborn child. He would have his way, he knew, all in good time.

"The Study is the least of your worries." he said kindly, "It is only that what you'll be learning isn't…how shall I put this-very widely socially accepted. But that doesn't seem to have ever stopped you before." he leered, mocking our very relationship.

I thought for what seemed like at least ten minutes on the subject. The Dark Arts was something I had always lusted after and not long ago it seemed I would have been prepared to pay a fair price for the least of tutors, let alone Tom. And though I was still incredibly afraid of his abilities, that fear came with a certain knowledge. I had reason to be afraid. He was rather clued-up on the subject and a very talented wizard to boot. Surely there was a great deal he could pass along to me.

In the back of my mind a tiny seed of wonderment in how far my own abilities might grow was planted. My vanity allowed me to actually think, for however small a time, that there may have been a chance that I would grow beyond even Tom's abilities. My own ambition would take me there and certainly once I'd gotten the handle on these Dark Arts there would be no stopping me. Perhaps I needn't even trouble myself with Dumbledore and the others. Perhaps I could sit tight and recoil my own defenses against Tom to wait for when the time was right.

I nodded solemnly. The feeling of getting into something so much bigger than myself overwhelmed me for a moment. Tom led me along and I followed obediently. The corridors were dimly lit in the face of only half a moon. Paintings which were hung around us dozed calmly, unaware of the evil that was making its swift way through out the castle. My mind reeled, knowing I shouldn't be in Tom's wake because wherever he was leading me wouldn't be worth it. And yet my footsteps didn't once falter. I had enough pride left in me to allow me to overestimate myself, as opposed to underestimating Riddle.

Again we reached the gargoyle and I descended first down the path of hidden stairs. Tom reached out for my shoulder but I smacked his hand away. He only laughed. It was terrible walking through the dark, the light of my wand never reaching far enough for my own liking. Many times the urge to reach behind me and grasp Tom's hand came and each time I fought it away. This wasn't easy. I still had feelings for the prefect who walked behind me, and these feelings, though combated with hatred and fear, were more than lingering.

Behind me Tom seemed rather cheerful, humming classical masterpieces to himself as we went. I could just picture the smug smile on his face and dearly wished things could have stayed the way they had been at Christmas.

"Just a bit further now," he craned his neck around my head to make note of how far we had come. And he was right, though I certainly had my doubts as our treading ended at a shadowed stone wall that blocked any further motion. Without much thought I lifted my arm and pressed a hand against the stone, hoping for it to give way and swing round in likeness to the Slytherin common room entrance. All I got in return was equal pressure exerted back onto my forearm and a tap on the shoulder from Tom before he asked me to give him some room. I felt stupid for having even tried. Was **_I _**the heir of Slytherin, no, that was Tom's gig.

"Next time, try hissing." he laughed, walking past me over the threshold. I rolled my eyes and gave his back a sarcastic smile. We took our usual seats, Tom in his wingback chair and I across him on the sofa. Once more the fireplace exploded into green flames and the room was cast in an emerald glow. Nagini made her excited way amidst his lap in no time, licking the air for a sign of food brought. In a second, Tom had conjured her a live rat and she left him in favor of chasing it around the room, her jaws snapping around its haunches every now and then. I had the distinct impression that she could have caught it within seconds if she had wanted to, but like Tom, his snake enjoyed torturing what was ultimately going to die anyways. Personally I didn't find it very charming to play with one's food, but then again, I wasn't a snake.

Tom stood and went to the bookshelves lining the walls. From there he summoned four, hard bound, exceedingly heavy books and magicked them into my lap. There was a great shrill shrieking off in the corner and it came to knowledge that Nagini had finally decided to allow her rat the mercy of death. Soon she was hoisting the rodent into her throat, whole. Absolutely charming.

"You'll be doing quite a bit of reading before any actual hands on exercises, of course." he explained. I nodded and began.

Tom's lessons were just as strenuous as any other class and it was occasionally very hard to appreciate his prep when I had so many other N.E.W.T. level classes to be concentrating on. But for the want in me I forced myself to stay up longer at nights to read the prescribed three chapters per week I was to finish for Tom. My schoolwork began to suffer. Not straight away, but eventually. For example, between finishing an essay for Mythology class on Avalon and reading up on petrification, I would instead manage my time towards the more demanding teacher: Tom. The next morning I would wake up with my head laying over open copies of books that wouldn't even be found in the restricted section of the Hogwarts school library. Soon I was rushing essays and lowering the standards I set for myself in order to complete my Dark Arts work. Tom made it very clear that it was important I keep up with what he gave me, that if I couldn't even handle a bit of studying I couldn't possibly think I was going to be able to conduct Dark Arts magic after leaving school. I believed him. More than that I used his words as extra drive to soak up all the extra-curricular material Tom saw fit. I was learning alarmingly fast and loved all I read about. It was all I had any more. Tom and I were estranged frequently thanks to studying and with no more friends and a tarnished name I longed for the times when I could shut myself up in my bed curtains and think about possibilities rather than reality. So, though I didn't enjoy taking orders from Riddle, it didn't make me slow down my education for a second. Or at least, my education in the Dark Arts. School was set on the back burner increasingly often and I received my fair share of worried looks from my professors. Still I plucked on, burning my eyes through one book after another. Tom was pleased and somewhere in me, I was glad for this. My original attraction to the boy remained by a delicate thread. A sort of hate/love balance of emotions, teetering more towards hate. The way I'd liked all of my relationships with everyone else before Tom. Funny that I'd come full circle through what I had thought to be salvation, only to end up right where I started.

Some nights, when I took my showers and everyone was already in their beds, quiet tears broke free from my eyes for no given reason. I knew what it was though: an emotional release because of the loss of control over my life, the deadly addiction I had grown to the Dark Arts, the loathing and fear I held for Tom, the fact that **_I_** had been brought low enough to fear a mud blood let alone anyone, but more than any of that, it was the fact that I had loved Tom and I still did. All that would ever pacify my emotions enough to get me to sleep was the memories Tom and I had created at my home and how I missed the times when everything had been easy and the boy I loved hadn't been a threat.

* * *

It was early June I believe (the days had begun to run together and I was starting to loose track of them) when I walked into the Great Hall and took my then usual seat with Tom and his friends. For about a month people had been staring at me and with good reason. My hair was limp and left unstyled, my make-up had been laying on my desk for weeks forgotten, my eyes had fashioned themselves a pair of dark circles and my clothes were scruffy as apposed to their usual neat, crisp demeanor.

This was a sharp contrast to the beauty queen who once walked the halls in my place. Where was Lydia Delatorre and what had Tom Riddle done with her? This new girl associated with mudbloods openly while her predecessor had been known for turning her nose up at the very mention of such filth. She was bedraggled to the likes of Moaning Myrtle Miser and yet hadn't there been a time when her only friends had been her wand and her mirror? She clung to odd looking books and stayed quiet during class, always hiding in the back; when just a few months ago this same girl had been the one paving a six year running reputation for herself by sitting near the front and casting out loud, exuberant comments and questions.

I didn't speak as I took my seat and ambled for some bread, listening intently to the hushed conversation in progress. It looked as though some kind of meeting was being held and they had failed to let me in on the motion. And though I hated myself for the thoughts, I couldn't suppress the feeling of being left out. After all I had never been left out of anything before in my life and besides, hadn't I already proved myself one of Tom's faithful? I'd even put up with being branded what he called a 'Death Eater', literally. Along the underside of my left arm pulsed a tattoo which still stung, even after having been in place for two weeks. It was a strange symbol but I knew it's meaning the moment I set eyes upon it. There was no mistaking that the gaunt skull from the mouth of which issued a snake symbolized Tom's most prized talent: being a parselmouth.

I'd screamed bloody murder during Tom's muttering of some sort of incantation when the image burned itself onto my skin, seemingly through the inside out. No one heard the screams. Only the ears residing within the chamber walls upon which my cries had echoed registered the sound, but of course Tom's followers did nothing. He had never told me it was going to be painful, all he'd said was that the tattoo was absolutely necessary if my lessons were to continue. Still foolishly holding out a bleak sort of hope that in the end I would use what Tom taught me against him, I had agreed.

Already I had advanced in my studying quite a lot and Tom began allowing me to practice Legilimency on the likes of Mulciber and Dolohov, though I got through their thick heads on the first try and was hence forth given Nott to work on. He proved something more difficult, but still, Tom apparently underestimated my abilities because I was flicking through his memories by the fifth go. Elle Rosier was the only member who I had yet to break the barriers of. Apparently Tom had realized what he was doing wrong and given Miss Rosier a few books on Occlumency to study before presenting me with her. Wise though his decision was, it wasn't Elle's mind I was trying to unlock. The things I needed were in Tom's mind alone and his were the thoughts I attempted to break everyday. Spare moments in class, in the common room, at meals, in the halls, anywhere.

Once or twice I was sure I'd felt a flicker of parseltongue in my ears but then again I had been imagining things more and more. My mind played daily tricks on me: shadows dancing, bugs crawling on the walls or my skin, footsteps, a presence over my shoulder. I was paranoid of everything and nothing at all. What did I really have to be afraid of anyway?

Perhaps myself. As I watched the group congregate, I recalled my Transfiguration lesson. We had received last week's tests back and it was my third 'F' in the last fortnight. Professor Dumbledore had pulled me aside to ask if I was alright, if there was anything I needed or wanted to share. His little impromptu conference had held me back from lunch (to no end as I hadn't told him anything) and the bells were ringing suddenly, signaling the end of dinner. Out of time, I made a mental note to talk to Tom that night in the common room about my worries.

* * *

"I don't know if I can do this anymore…" I admitted, my voice wrung with fatigue as I took a seat beside him in the common room. I had forced myself to finish all of my assignments before working up the courage to really say what I wanted to. I lamented in the fact that there had been a time when I never would have hesitated to wear my heart on my rolled up sleeves.

It was late, though I wasn't sure of the hour. Our shared dedication to workaholism allowed for us to also be sharing an empty common room. Tom clucked his tongue disapprovingly as he shifted some parchment around, "Giving up are we? Lydie you mustn't make your weaknesses so obvious my dear."

"I failed another test today; that makes three." I regarded him helplessly.

"Are you looking for study tips?" he asked cocking an uncaring eyebrow.

"I'm looking for mercy." I all but winced at the mellow drama in my words, sighing I tried again "You couldn't give me a break for…a week maybe?" I shrugged pathetically.

He chuckled maliciously and I felt the slow, sweeping sensation of a plan backfired sink onto my shoulders.

"I think you need more motivation my dear."

'_No, I need for you to level with me and realize what you're doing to me.' _he continued on, oblivious to my thoughts, or other wise completely aware and merely uncaring.

"Yes, a good essay is in order I believe. Three feet long I think should do the trick."

"Christ Tom, **_three pages_**? **_Why_** are you trying to kill me?" I griped, overwhelmed.

"I'm not trying to **_kill_** you." he chortled, amused.

"What then?" I snarled.

"If you want to quit so soon, go ahead. I'll just pop on down to Dippet's office tomorrow and tell him exactly how poor Amelia and Gregory died at your coldhearted hands." a nonchalant shrug fell from his shoulders as he turned a page in his textbook.

I shook my head in resentment and confusion.

"I understand, Tom, that you needed me to kill Gregory. And I understand that you had to turn me against Gregory in order to use me. And I also understand that you needed one less ally on his side and one more on yours to balance things out. But why did you make me fall in love with you?"

"Oh, Lydie, you fell in love quite of your own accord." he told me.

"And you didn't **_once _**feel the same way?" I asked in bitterly.

"Well now, I must admit I've enjoyed our little adventures quite a bit more than I thought I would. But this never had anything to do with Gregory." He smiled pleasantly. I really wished he'd stop doing that.

I narrowed my eyes, "What else could you possibly…" and then I remembered. The list in Tom's diary…he had added Gregory's name **_after _**we'd begun spending time together. This meant he couldn't have been aspiring to kill Gregory before he had seduced me. Tom leaned forward and looked me in the eyes.

"I wanted **_you, _**Lydia. Since we came back to school this year I'd been wondering how I could get enough strength in the Dark Arts to do everything that I'll need to accomplish later in life. It isn't very well going to be taught to me at Hogwarts. So, obviously, I would need to hone my abilities myself. Think of it as a cat sharpening their claws on a wooden post. Therefore, in order to sharpen these claws of mine, I needed the very best quality of wood. You must see it as a privilege my dear. You were just what I needed. Pureblooded, beautiful, a fair witch, and full of yourself to the extent that you wouldn't suspect a thing due to your own self indulgences."

I sat there, feeling numb for the first time in my life. It was shocking, of course, but terribly clever. My features contorted to show just how appalled I was.

"And so you seduced me..."

"Naturally." he sat back in his chair with a leer across his lips.

"Because you knew, what with your ancestry and my weakness for real Slytherin qualities, that it was easily the best route to take in order to gain my friendship and if need be, my romantic interest."

"Actually, I always knew I would have your romantic interest."

"It seems your just as vain as I am." I told him softly, finding myself in a rather large amount of humiliation.

"Perhaps, but I don't let it get in the way. I've seen the damage that vanity can do and let me say, it is not pretty." he continued to taunt me.

"How many more people are going to have to suffer for your insecurities?" I whispered, past the point of respect and fear.

Tom surveyed me, a perfect frown gracing his features. For moments he sat still with his elbows on his armrests and his hands cross-folded in his lap, hardly blinking before-

"You've always had such nerve." the chuckle rose from his throat gracefully as always. "You know," he wetted his lips and continued to stare me down, "I distinctly remember you trying to explain my reasoning of ruthlessness to half a class full of Ravenclaws just a few months ago."

"I didn't know what I was talking about." I'd never felt such humility in all my life.

"Too right you didn't and you should remember that. Don't tell me about insecurities Lydie, you don't even know what the word means." his tone had grown in harshness as the topic of conversation became more personal. "All my life I've been powerless. I was powerless to stop my father from leaving or my mother from dying. I was powerless living in a hole in the wall on some wet and dreary London street. I was powerless when I came to this school, ridiculed for being pretentious and a mudblood to boot."

"And then you saw the prefects in the halls, didn't you?" I asked, almost as if analyzing his psychology.

"I certainly did, and I realized what I had to do,"-

"Work your way up the power gaining ladder. So there it is then, conquer the minds of the teachers today and all of Britain tomorrow?" I shook my head at his sheer ambition. Not to mention how frighteningly believable his aspirations were beginning to become.

"Not quite. _Tomorrow_ I have an appointment with the headmaster."

"Really? Discussing genocide over tea and biscuits is it?"

He chuckled, "I'm hoping to stay the summer at Hogwarts, did you know?"

This news found me rather alarmed. Tom spending the whole of two months with **_out_** an entire brigade of students and teachers to watch his every move. He'd be making preparations to wipe out half the school. Or perhaps…was this another insecurity? Was he shirking away from having to go back to the muggle world? The world where he remained powerless?

"You can't, they won't let you." I blurted out carelessly.

"Really? You might have said the same thing about your parents allowing me to set foot on their grounds. But I was welcomed with open arms and offered more Christmas pudding than I could stomach."

"I'll tell them." I said simply, as if the solution really were that easy and had been plain from the start.

"I'll tell them everything you've been doing to me. Everything you're planning."

"No, you really won't." he chuckled again.

"Oh? What are you going to do? Kill me?"

He sighed and massaged his temple, "I wish I could, just so you might **_shut-up _**once in a while and allow me to finish my answers to your pathetic questions." he bit the retort off, weary of my presence and resilience. "Thing is Lydie, do you honestly think they'll believe you?"

My eyes shifted around nervously. I felt much smaller all of a sudden as I remembered my place and Tom's. He was the prefect everyone loved and I was under suspicion of murder. Somehow the scales seemed to be tipping in his favor.

And then I realized that the truth might help me. If I confessed everything, even my own involvement and didn't give Tom the chance to fill in his own falsehoods they would have to take action. This was beyond saving my own skin, this was war against Hogwarts' Head Boy.

But once again, the great brute read my thoughts and responded aptly, "You'll be thrown in Azkaban you daft little girl." he shook his head in all seriousness as he explained my idiocy yet again, "Don't you see? You killed Gregory Lydia, you **_killed_** a boy."

"I didn't kill anyone." I breathed.

"No I really think you did, love. Don't you remember? He was putting you through hell and you hated him. I even pointed out that perhaps hate was too strong a word. But you insisted my dear, and you asked me to kill him."

"You offered."

"It's not fault I'm a good friend." he smirked, "Now if you'll excuse me: you've rather exhausted me, so I'll think I'll turn in. Don't forget that essay." after standing and pushing in his chair he gave me a last taunting wink and was off to bed.


	11. Vanity Got the Best of Her

A huge, tremendous thank you to the reviewers. I love you dearly and it's you that have kept me plucking along to the best of my ability, though I'm sure I would have anyway since I love this story deeply and am so very close to completing it. Just a quick note though, to LaughingManiac: Hello dearest and thank you for your review. You asked me why this story is rated 'M'. Let me first restate what the guidelines tell us about the 'M' rating: _Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with **possible strong but non-explicit adult themes**, references to violence, and strong coarse language. _'M' does not automatically translate to NC-17 or even R, it just means this is not a story for those who like fluffy romances and non-challenging themes. Personally I think this story could easily cross into 'MA' territory since there is explicit abuse and 'adult language'. However I can understand the thought process one uses when linking 'R' with 'M'. Rest assured however they are not the same. Thank you and have a great day.

-Aspen (I changed my pen name for those of you who didn't notice. I have a tendency to do that every 6-12 months or so. shrug Sorry if it's an inconvenience, but I like change.)

**Chapter Ten: Vanity Got the Best of Her**

I'm not sure how long I sat in that chair after he left for bed. The embers in the fire died away, leaving the candles to wallow in their own pit of melting wax. A few of the flames drowned themselves out. My mind could barely process any of this. Desperation had never run so strong throughout me and my entire focus was dedicated to this. Tom had made it clear that directly going to administration was out of the question because my voice alone would be ignored. As much as I hated this fact, that changed nothing and so I ignored the resentment in my being and went straight for a plan. A desperate call for attention. Not to myself, but Tom.

The first and most obvious thing that came to me was to kill off another student and force as much evidence from Tom as possible. In essence I'd be framing him and I'll admit I wrestled with the ridiculousness of the idea before realizing it was my only chance.

Now obviously the only way to get away with such a thing and still be able to give Tom his credit, was to keep his pattern and preferred mode of killing. This meant having to use the Basilisk. Though within half a moment I was mentally backing away from the proposal. She'd eat me before I could even try to **_pretend_** like I could speak parseltongue. But I had to…

I'd lure her up, stay in the pipes and allow her to smell something, hear something. But what? That answer came easily. Blood.

My own? Yes, it would have to be. I'd slash my forearm, wash it down with some water and wait. _'Merlin above I pray this works.'_

So who would die? For a scant moment I seriously considered sacrificing myself. All I really had to do was crawl through the vent in the girls' bathroom and lay out for the beast. But no, I had to stay and play the herald. The girl who cried 'snake'. Tell them that I was just coming to the bathroom and when I peeked in I saw the basilisk devouring…Myrtle? It would be the most logical route as she was always in the girls' bathroom after all. Perhaps I needed to have a talk with Olive Hornby, ask her to stir up some angst for Miss Miser and get the wretch crying. With any luck she'd be dead before Tom's meeting with the Headmaster.

This was all fine and dandy but the question still remained how to point the evidence to Tom without blatantly standing up, waving my arms and screaming "It's him! It's him! Tom's a bloody murderer!"…This was no longer just about stopping his ventures at the school but about bringing him under complete control. If he was this obsessed with power at seventeen (I'd recently been awared that his birthday had already passed-it had been the night of the Masquerade ball-on New Year's), Christ only knew what he was really working towards. He wanted the entire world down on their knees for him and if Tom wanted anything badly enough there was no denying that he would have it. No matter how many pawns he had to knock off his chess board to claim checkmate, he would have his way.

A nearby candle flickered gently, rippling back and forth like a belly dancer-like a snake. A snake…Perhaps if I brought in a snake and set in on Tom in a crowd-say the Great Hall or during transfiguration class-his composure would slip and he would curse it away (or sweet talk it) in it's own language. The plan struck me as risky and not at all very promising. However I **_was_** desperate, and the unsure results did hold a possibility that my desperation could not ignore. A snake it would be. But how to get one? Surely I wouldn't go about the grounds turning over rocks and trying find serpents. Who might be able to help me? Why the beast master himself: Rubeus Hagrid! I hoped he would anyway, I'd treated him with such ill contempt all the years I'd known him it was likely he might turn me a cold shoulder. Alas, there was no time to fret over social trespasses. He was a Gryffindor, a trustworthy one at that and one who's heart was reached through animals. If it was an animal I wanted from him then I had faith that he would put aside any mistrust for me he may have had.

Echoing with a chilled kind of chant, the bells sounded. It was 2 am and I had a long day coming. Gain the trust of an outcast, wash my own blood down a drain, kill a girl, frame the school serial killer and set a snake on him-all before his meeting with the headmaster the next night. Once again I put faith into my abilities, blew the life from the only candle left standing and followed my shadow up to my bed.

As I slipped into my nightshift and under my covers, I wondered…would Tom find out of my plans? Should I fail (and there was no denying that the odds were considerably out of my favor) would he kill me? Might I be thrown in Azkaban as he promised? Was this my last night in a warm bed? Was it my last night **_alive_**?

* * *

I was exhausted the next morning from having stayed up so late, but as my plans for the day came back to me I became suddenly more willing to leave the warm safety of my covers. Brushing my teeth in the bathroom, I started coughing. I felt something hot and slick on my throat and as I looked down my eyes grew wide with terror. Spots of blood littered the pure, white porcelain sink I was occupying. Throwing nervous glances over my shoulders to see if anyone had noticed, I caught some water from the tap in my palm and washed the red mess away before the other girls could take in the sight.

Pushing the disturbance from my mind I made to get dressed. This time as I lifted my legs into my pleated skirt and did up the buttons on my oxford, dizziness overcame me. Before I could think too much on this, a chill sent goosebumps ravaging over my arms. Was it just me or was it cold for this time of year? Eager to get into my robes for warmth, I had soon forgotten of being dizzy and coughing up blood and I was on my down to breakfast looking as dismal as ever with gray circles under my eyes.

The morning passed in a blur of severe fatigue and feeling delusional. I could barely get through any assignments in class because I was concentrating so heavily on not falling asleep. Still, come lunch I was following the plans I had devised the night previous and sought out Hagrid. It was sunny out and the farther I walked from the castle the more warmth seemed to penetrate my skin and the senses there in. I regained a sense of the waking world and felt more in health with every step.

Hagrid was found easily as he was lingering outside by the lake with a very large tortoise whose eyes were fixed upon a great bit of lettuce which Hagrid was feeding him in bits while talking to him.

'_Strange boy…' _I grimaced at the sight of him and shook my head. But I made sure to wipe that look off my face, opting instead to replace it with something a spot friendlier. A big smile, bright eyes, and the common knowledge that I was something of an outcast lately were my only ammunitions and I took them up boldly, prepared to use them to the best of my advantage.

"Afternoon Rubeus." I greeted him as genially as I possibly could. His attention was diverted for a moment and his tortoise craned its neck desperately.

"'Lo Lydia, wha' brings you out 'ere?" he didn't seem all that bothered by my presence as he smiled at me through his unforgivable mess of hair.

"I was just saying hello." I shrugged nonchalantly as though the world were really so simple that polite gestures such as 'hello's actually meant anything to me anymore.

"Well that's nice of yeh…this 'ere's Snappy." the tortoise glared at me as if daring myself to do anything which might interrupt Hagrid from feeding him.

'_The feeling's mutual.' _I wanted to tell him. Ugh, did I ever hate animals…

"Hello Snappy." I graced the shelled creature with a purposefully fake smile before turning back to Hagrid. "Umm, Hagrid?"

"Yah?" he waved a bit more lettuce in front of Snappy, dangling it merrily as though the tortoise would enjoy the extra effort he'd have to exert. Why he didn't just save himself the trouble and stuff the lot down it's scaly throat, I haven't a clue. But there were more pressing matters at hand.

"It's rather known around the school that your very good with animals…" I said sweetly, creeping up on the subject.

"Is it?" he turned to me brightly, "Aren't they jus' grand? I do love 'em so."

"Yes, wonderful…' _'I don't give a damn.' _'Um, I had hoped, that because of your expertise you might be able to help me."

"With wha'?" he cocked his head slightly while continuing to stare admirably down at Snappy who was growing so ambitious about his lettuce that with every bite he took he came nearer and nearer to taking off a bit of Hagrid's hand.

"Well you see, a friend of mine is very attached to snakes and his birthday's coming up and I'd very much like for him to have one of his own."

"Well…" the great brute mulled this over for a moment, "Surely yeh've got the resources to buy 'im one. Yeh wouldn't like to be takin' one from it's family in the wild."

"Oh but his birthday is so soon and he'd like one so very much. He can talk to them you know! It's simply fabulous. And he doesn't get any presents from home because he's an orphan and"-

"Say now, are yeh talkin' about tha' prefect, Riddle?"

"Indeed." I smiled at his recognition as if I really was happy he knew of my 'friend'.

"Well…He's always seemed a nice enough chap." The giant boy mulled it over as I began rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet out of impatience. "I suppose I can help yeh, seein' as he doesn't ge' any other presents an' all." Tossing the rest of the lettuce towards his friend, the tortoise, he rose from his seat and began leading the way west. Realization dawned on me and I felt my previous elation drain.

"We're not going into the forest are we?" I questioned, jogging by then to keep up with his great strides.

"We might 'ave to. But I doubt it, just turn over a few rocks and that should do it." he was busy searching for these rocks as we walked. Pretty soon the chore of following him silently became rather monotonous and I began questioning whether my plan would work, whether any of this was worth it, if I shouldn't just give up and let death find me rather than go provoking it.

I gasped lightly, turning towards the castle as it's bells tolled and signaled the end of lunch. This of course seemed to ruin things. I needed that snake! But as I thought over it some more I decided I could afford to adjust my plans slightly. If all went according to plan, I could go to Dippet's office just before his meeting with Riddle and tell him what I knew about Slytherin's monster being a Basilisk. I would just have to meet up with Hagrid whenever either one of us could. I did after all have some time to play with, a day or so, in the span of which I could set the wild serpent on Riddle.

"Hagrid I have to go, but I really **_really_** need that snake by the end of today. Can you manage?"

"Er…" he thought about this as I put him on the spot with only a few minutes to get back to class, "I do have some things tha' need doin' tonight…how about yeh meet me after sunset in the entrance hall?"

"No, the entrance hall's too risky. We might be caught…" I waved the thought away, deeply immersed in my own mind and annoyed with his stolid suggestions.

"Caught?" Hagrid gave me a questioning look and cocked his head to the side a little.

"By Tom I mean." I explained my lie as though it were obvious, "He's a prefect after all. I wouldn't want him to get a glimpse of his present while he's on patrol duty. It would ruin the surprise!"

"Oh! Righ', good thinking. Where then?" thankfully he was too excited at the prospect of being included in something to be suspicious.

"The dungeons." I told him finally, seeing no other alternative.

"Perfect." he beamed at me through his matted tresses, "Well! Better get to class. See yeh later Lydia." and with a more than obvious wink he began striding off.

* * *

As I took my seat in Visions and Pursuit's once more I again felt half delirious. Funny, I hadn't been so out of my mind when talking with Hagrid. Instantly I came to the conclusion that Tom was playing with my mind. He had realized I wasn't beaten down enough and that I was finally getting desperate. His senses had picked up on the change in my air and he wasn't stupid enough to ignore it.

Tom sat near the front, as per usual. Even as his back was to me I felt a heaviness pressing down on my shoulders as well as my thickly clouded mind. It amazed me how strong he had become, how powerful a wizard. Though I knew that wasn't the only explanation. He had worn me down to near death. Still, I clawed to keep a steady mind and not pass out. I had to get through the day no matter what it took. I could see though that Tom was going to make that as difficult as possible.

Every second was a torturous battle to keep conscious and aware of what was going on around me. Professor Exedra noticed my state and gave me more than a few worried glances. Finally, after giving the class an assignment she called me to the front and quietly told me she thought I should go down to the infirmary. She remarked on how pale I was, how drained I seemed. I couldn't help but wonder what had taken so long for her to notice.

The further from class I got the clearer my mind became. My steps were sturdier and I was confidant that I wasn't about to collapse, which was certainly improvement. I took my time getting to the infirmary. The nurse was pretty busy when I got there and I had to wait a good five minutes just for her to look at me. Even after she had gasped slightly at the realization of who she was looking at and how every aspect of my appearance had changed since our last meeting all I was given was a vitality potion. As I drank it down I could feel life spreading through my veins like a tree taking root. It was a wonderful sensation that kept me on a natural high all the way back to class. Sadly it began wearing off as I made my way back to my desk.

* * *

I hadn't had to ask Olive Hornby to do anything, she had already taken liberty to mock Myrtle that afternoon in class and a pathetic heap of shuddering, sobbing bones was how I found Miss Miser. I didn't make my presence known to her when I looked into the stall. I made sure it was really my intended victim who was present and turned when I made note that it was. Her knees were up and her head buried in them and so she did not see me.

But Myrtle wasn't the only one about to get a nasty shock. A rough gasp perforated my lungs as I nearly ran smack into Tom on my way back to the taps. I hadn't heard him come in and I'd been so caught off guard and so frightened that my heart had literally stopped for a moment.

"What are you doing here?" I breathed in near shock.

"Finding out what your plans are. For I know that you do indeed have plans Lydia." That was the first time I could remember being talked to like I was about to be punished. His voice was that of a hissing serpent, as though he was seething and barely keeping his anger in at the seems.

I walked around him, the sweat collecting heavily on my brow as my back turned on him. "Is it really so unusual for me to be in the girls' toilet?" I asked as cooly as I could manage. But Lydia Delatorre no longer held any real confidence and I knew that he could see straight through me into the haze of fear and foreboding capsuled in my mind. His bright green eyes were surging with more intensity than ever as I watched him approach me once again in the mirror. Though I had somehow known in the back of my mind that Tom would destroy me one day it was his eyes that made me realize that day was upon me and I had never known terror the way I did then.

"Give up your pride already will you?" he hissed delicately over my shoulder, voice lowered considerably. "You haven't got a chance against me and you know it. Why do you continue to fight, wearing out this…_once beautiful _body of yours to the point of destruction?" Tom's hand came to rest on the side of my shoulder.

"I do not fight for my own life." I mumbled, barely able to hear myself as I continued to stare down at the porcelain sink in front me. It was then that I realized I was trapped.

A chuckle rose from the depths of his throat in pure mockery, "You've developed a hero complex, how charming. Now if I recall, that's a quality of Gryffindor isn't it? In fact I believe you charged me with the same disability when we first met. Funny how tables turn like that."

A hacking cough shook my lungs and throat as I opened my mouth to speak. Blood spattered into the sink. Daring to look up I was horrified to find a smug smirk curling onto Tom's lips. And the suddenly, even though I had no idea what I was doing or why, a burst of nerve struck through me and I turned the tap on to let the blood wash down the sink…into the plumbing.

Trembling with more fear than I was willing to show, I turned on him. "She'll smell it and she'll come and when she does I promise you Tom I'll scream and I promise you also that they'll come running. They'll find you and when they do I hope you rot in Azkaban for the rest of your life."

"You may try what you like but I assure you that you will die trying. Perhaps you have forgotten but it is I who has control of the beast, she listens only to me."

"Is that the best threat you can come up with? Death? Surely someone so bold and brilliant as _Lord Voldemort _can do better." I scoffed in a low, jeering tone. Where this surge of sudden energy came from I would have liked to know because I sure as hell **_didn't_**. Perhaps it was the only ammunition I had left. Maybe it was my way of making the last moments of my life count.

"Have you forgotten all that I've managed to do to you thus far?" he offered up an amazed smirk and wide eyes, "I've **_destroyed_** you Lydia. The administration thinks your insane, the student body thinks your pathetic and both believe you a murderess. You wander the halls with unkempt hair and dirt under your fingernails. You're a **_wretch._**"

"And I am also alive." I glared at him, pronunciating my words carefully.

"Well what would you have me do? Kill you? I can arrange it gladly."

"You can't afford to." my own smile was gentle. He only had two choices. Either he was bluffing and I was safe or he was telling the truth and was risking exposure of a reign of terror on the school. He'd be locked up and never heard from again. Either way he was at a disadvantage.

But he surprised me yet again. His eyes flickered with their usual manic red gleam as Tom stared me down and spoke words that had enchanted me. Words I would never understand. I wasn't even sure if they were real words or pure communication. And even now as parseltongue poured from his mouth I couldn't stop myself from enjoying the sound.

An odd, morbidly echoing hiss began filling the pipes. He had awakened the basilisk. She could smell my blood and she was hungry.

The bang of a swung open stall door told us he'd woken something else too. Myrtle still sat on the floor of her stall only now her head was poking out of the ajar door. My windpipe seemed to seize in on itself as my eyes did the exact opposite and bulged with fearful realization. Tom's pet burst forth from the pipes and went for the first thing it saw. In a flurry of scales, screams and hisses it was over in a matter of mere seconds. And I stood shocked.

I had never consciously witnessed anyone die before. The light that left her eyes was what frightened me the most. It just…snuffed out…instantly. There was no fighting back or chance at all for her. She was as good as dead when she had woken up this morning. And it was me who had done it.

No matter what I knew about Tom having called upon the basilisk…it was plainly obvious. I had been planning to kill her anyway, though after watching it happen and judging from my surprise at Tom's boldness I wasn't so sure I had ever had the nerve.

But the situation didn't give me much time to grieve or get hysterical. Tom either read my thoughts or simply knew how my mind worked because just as I was opening my mouth to scream bloody murder, he silenced me by turning on me and seizing my neck. The breath wasn't immediately cut off, but my voice box was being all but smothered and was of no use. He lifted me with his arm, increasing the pressure around my throat as he flattened my back against a cold near-by wall.

"Thomas," I wheezed, my hands clawing at his long, pale fingers wrapped like a pearl necklace about my jugular.

His scowl grew and he yanked me back a bit only to slam be once more into the wall behind me by his grip on my neck. "**_Don't_** call me that, you pathetic little blood traitor." he growled.

"Please…" it wasn't even a croak, barely more than a breath as my fingers continued desperately groping at his wrist in an attempt to pry his own hand away. It was a useless struggle, but I couldn't stop fighting. I refused to let him kill me now the way I had let him chip away at me day in and day out for nearly the entire school year. Of course, it's useless to try swimming if you've already begun loosing consciousness from drowning.

"Please? Please what?" he demanded innocently, only squeezing harder. He leaned forward, bringing me eye level with him. I could no longer speak. All but wincing was beyond reach as tears spilled down my cheeks and onto his cold, pale fingers. As sobs began racking my lungs the need for gasping became much greater. My lungs contracted and then stuck there, unable to re-open. Beneath his fingers he could feel my skin turning cold. "Oh by all means, keep going. I'd love to hear you beg." he chuckled, "Ah, but begging would get you no where my dear. Oh my dearest Lydie…you know I can't let you go. You'd scream or go to Dumbledore. And all he needs is another excuse to patronize me. And I just can't have that. So I'm going to get rid of you. And when you're gone…" he leaned ever closer as my skin began taking a blue sort of blush. His words were clear and soft over my ear, "No one will care."

One last strangled sob and he felt my body stop struggling. I was limp and slumping between him and the wall. His hand came away from my neck and allowed me to fall.

"Stupid girl…They always said vanity got the best of her." his sneer was clear on his handsome features as he spat


	12. Epilogue

This really shouldn't have taken so long. But what can I say, I needed a break from dark angst 24/7. Anyways! The bitch is back, kickin' and…well over. Lol. Hope you guys enjoy and have a happy new year!-Aspen

**Epilogue: Hell**

"Hell is so many different things, she would tell me. Hell is every one of your worst fears chasing you for a thousand years and forever on. For adults it's the anxiety of survival, responsibility. For children it is found in being defenseless, suppressed; knowing you're right but never being given the chance to be heard and suffering because of it."- Tom Riddle

* * *

I heard the words as he spoke to the air around my corpse. I watched him carelessly allow my body to fall in a heap on the ground, my once pale skin tainted by a creeping indigo. I felt like the helium in a balloon. So free and weightless, so trapped and tied down. I didn't know where I was but at the same time I was looking down on the girls' toilet, watching Tom mutter a few more spells over me. Perhaps to hide the damage he'd done. Perhaps to suck out a last bit of knowledge from my skull.

I wondered if I was in heaven. Was this real? Was I even dead?

Yes, I knew I was dead. I couldn't feel a body around me any longer and the one that had been mine was lying on the floor not so far from me. I couldn't feel temperature. Not the warmth of the blood in my wrists nor the cold that had liked to linger in my ankles. I was sure I wasn't floating but I wasn't falling and I certainly wasn't standing steady on the half wet, grimy bathroom floor. I had never imagined such strange experiences existed.

I watched in curious detachment from the world as Tom sent the satisfied Basilisk away, realizing he needed to hurry. As he murmured a different incantation which I recognized- _Corpus Leviosa _-my lifeless body rose about five feet in the air in front of him.

At first I wondered where I was following him to, for I was indeed following him. I wasn't even trying to, it seemed I didn't have a choice. Obviously this **_wasn't _**heaven.

We (he, my corpse and…whatever I had become) headed out into the corridor and to the grand staircase which lead to the entrance hall. Hanging a right, we crept through the main dungeon corridor for a few minutes before Tom opened the door of a spare closet. In amongst the spiders, boxes and dust I was lost and not spared more than a disgusted glance over his shoulder before we were off again. Next, as though nothing had happened, we went to class which was terribly odd for me. He sat there, hands folded neatly on his desk as though the murders he had just committed had been a minor social inconvenience. As though shoving my body away had been a short pit stop for water on the way to class. How could he be so at peace? Did he not feel the guilt of my blood on his hands?

I couldn't scream out or jump around or do anything at all. I was present in mind only and surveyed the entire happenings of that day's lesson. It drove me mad that the world was just going on as usual with no thought spared to what had become of Lydia Delatorre. And what **_had _**become of her? How could I be there when no one saw me, heard me or sensed my presence. I was dead and yet still my mind seemed alive. I wasn't a ghost, that much was clear. What had happened to me?

Time passed and I began growing very angry when no one said anything about my disappearance. I was sure someone would have noticed or cared. It took nearly the entire period for a teacher to come in and stop the lesson. She ordered everyone back to their dorms immediately, asking that Tom go to the dungeon entrance to escort the younger Slytherins back to the common room. As everyone exited the classroom the other woman explained that another death had occurred. Just the one though. This was what outraged me the most. That I had died in vain.

Dinner was served in the common rooms and most people were silent. Celeste and Jonathon didn't even talk to one another, though they sat close and alone per usual.

Tom seemed anxious through out the entire ordeal but it wasn't because of the two homicides he'd just committed. Oh no, _he was afraid of being late to his meeting with Headmaster Dippet_. I had forgotten all about it until finally he went to Professor Sator and explained his situation. Our head of house was reluctant but complied, knowing his young prefect could defend himself. Not that he had much to fear…

The windows on the way to Dippet's office betrayed a bloodstained sunset oozing it's rusty light across the grounds. I felt somewhat appeased that at least the earth seemed to be acknowledging my death.

As we ascended the escalating staircase of the headmaster I felt failure easing in on me. It was heavier than my body had ever been. I was dead, there was no one to play snitch and tattle on Slytherin's golden boy. Tom had won. He would stay at the school over the summer. Possibly wreak even more havoc next year. Perhaps he wouldn't bother with Hogwarts though. Perhaps he had already begun working towards bigger goals. More absurd aspirations.

Suddenly Tom was knocking on the door. A feeble 'Enter' could be heard from within.

"Ah, Riddle." the Headmaster greeted the horrific boy below me.

"You wanted to see me Professor Dippet?" he stood, still looking rather nervous. I wondered if his stomach was in knots though I suddenly found I could no longer recall what that felt like.

"Sit down," the headmaster replied, "I've just been reading the letter you sent me."

"Oh," Tom replied, already having known this was what he was there for. He took his seat obediently, oddly gripping his hands together very tightly. Suddenly Tom was the same boy I'd passed dirty looks at in third year. He was once more the same freak I'd laughed at in fifth year. He was a useless, disgusting, lower-than-me mudblood. No charm hovered around him anymore. I looked at him and he just looked so differently. I had to wonder how I had **_ever _**fallen in love with him.

"My dear boy," Dippet was trying to put whatever news was coming as lightly as possible and this made me perk up in curiosity, "I cannot possibly let you stay at the school over the summer. Surely you want to go home for the holidays?"

If I'd been able to frown at the Headmaster with a look that said just how crazy I thought he was then I would have. Tom hated the orphanage, he always had. Hogwarts was the only home the young boy had. Didn't Dippet know that? Still, I was amazed and jubilant all at once. Tom wouldn't be staying!

"No," Tom jumped on the statement at once, scooting forward to sit on the edge of his seat, "I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts than go back to that…to that…"

They garbled for a few more moments on things which I found terribly dull since they were plainly obvious to me. Things like the orphanage, where Tom got his name from, what had happened to his parents. Honestly, why didn't our headmaster know these things of one of his favorite pupils?

"The thing is Tom," Dippet finally sighed, "special arrangements might have been made for you, but in the current circumstances…"

"You mean all these attacks, sir?" Tom replied half knowledgeably half warily.

"Precisely," said our headmaster, "My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in light of the recent tragedy…the death of that poor little girl…" If he was talking about Myrtle I desperately wanted to roll my eyes. I also wanted to scream in joy at the fact that not only was Tom being forced to go back to the orphanage, but it was my doing. The guilt of inflicting certain death upon Myrtle was long gone and had replaced itself with the swelling pride of victory. "You will be safer by far at your orphanage." Dippet continued, "As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking about closing the school. We are no nearer locating the-er-source of all this unpleasantness."

Tom's striking green eyes widened and he sat up straighter, "Sir…if the person was caught…if it all stopped"-

"What do you mean?" said Dippet with a squeak in his voice, sitting up just as straight as the student across from him. "Riddle, do you mean you know something about all these attacks?"

The line sounded almost hokey given the fact that Tom **_was _**all there was to know about the attacks.

"No, sir," he replied quickly. _'He would have come to you immediately if he knew something and it wasn't him you old codger!' _I thought. Dippet sank low again in his chair, looking disappointed.

"You may go, Tom."

That was all and we left. Down the moving staircase we went, emerging in a darkening corridor. Tom stopped and stood thinking for a while, chewing his lower lip and furrowing his eyebrow. A possibility had formed in my head earlier only I desperately hoped Tom wouldn't see his advantage. It was like playing chess and knowing your opponent has a defeating move staring him blank in the face if he would only take it and you pray and pray that he doesn't see it.

Well sadly, Tom saw his move. He always had and he always would. After all that's all life was to a Slytherin. A game of chess. You think carefully about each move you make and you make sure every move plays to your advantage. It was simply how we worked. Hell, it was how I had found myself ensnared in Tom's charms.

Suddenly, he was off, having reached his conclusion. Meeting another person didn't seem to have crossed Tom's mind but meet one we did. It was Dumbledore. I hated him for his wretched timing. Figures I wouldn't be able to get to him until **_after_** I was dead. After an oddly trailing sort of speech about keeping out of the corridors in the face of this latest tragedy we were off once more. I had a smug sort of air about me after that, knowing I'd shaken someone like Dumbledore up so much. This death thing had a morbid power kick to it.

Tom's trail took us dungeon bound after this, as I had been hoping it wouldn't. He fit himself snugly into the same closet I had been thrown in, though the dark provided such good hiding that one would have had to quite been looking for a corpse to have ever seen me. The door was left ajar just enough to get a good view of the dungeon corridor beyond and in the dark we waited.

I was going out of my mind with how quickly things were happening and how I could barely keep up with it all and I must admit it was good to get a bit of a rest. Though a bit of a rest soon turned into what felt like hours and hours of watching Tom stand, his eyes flickering in the torchlight of the hallway. I was somehow confined to the closet we were shut up in and this quickly irritated me. Settling near a large wooden trunk I tried to think of clues from the past months that would shed some understanding on what had was happening to me. Suddenly a memory floated to the surface of my mind, like a cataloged file being pulled up from a cabinet full of them. One I didn't know I had…

_I was walking, slow and zombie like down a poorly lit corridor. It seemed like a tunnel or catacombs…I then realized it was the way to Slytherin's study. _

"_What did he do to you?" _the low murmur in my ear caught me off guard but I recognized it faintly…

"_He told my friends about what we did. How I went to the prefects' bath with you after curfew." _It frightened me how words were just coming out of my mouth with no control or pretense.

"_Did you not want them to find out?" _It was Tom! But when had this happened?

"_Of course not." _In absolute horror I realized this was one of the memories suppressed from my mind because I had been subconscious at the time it was happening. Tom had been controlling my mind and this was one of the results. I could see these things now, remember them, because the charms on my body which had been used to keep them out of reach of my conscious were no longer a restriction.

"_And why not?" _He had to have known the answer to that, but he asked anyway. Wanting to hear me state the reasons out loud.

"_They could not know. You have dirty blood. Filthy muggle blood. People like me do not associate with people like you. We have kept to that tradition too long to break it now."_

"_And yet here we are." _he was sneering. Bastard.

"_I know."_

"_You have begun to tolerate my company. Somewhere in your mind you are intrigued with me."_

"_Yes." _I didn't have a choice, I wouldn't have done it in my right mind you buggering mud blooded little-

"_You even wish I had pure wizarding blood sometimes."_

"_Yes."_

_He sighed, "So do I, my dear Lydie, so do I."_

All sorts of memories so very similar to that one were surfacing on the pool of my thoughts. Soon I was able to piece together exactly what had happened to me throughout my time with Tom and everything seemed so much clearer, so much more painfully obvious. Just as hate was boiling up inside me again, a figure passed by the door, momentarily casting a shadow on the sliver of light snaking into the closet.

What Tom did next amazed me. I guess he'd sucked what he could from my brain and learned of my meeting with Hagrid that night. Hagrid had had some business of his own to take care of, always playing with creatures and all. He framed the giant for my murder and just before calling administration down, pulled my own body into the empty corridor as perfect evidence of catching Hagrid red handed. The boy's wand was snapped and the dark cloud guilt hung over him and his name forever after.

Tom of course got away scot-free. The only hope for me came when Dumbledore fought to allow Hagrid to stay at Hogwarts to train as groundkeeper. Again, Dumbledore proved himself to me in later years as headmaster when he turned Tom down for a teaching position at Hogwarts. Still, I was forced to follow Tom in all his endeavors. When he played games with someone's mind, I had to watch. When he tortured muggles mercilessly for days on end, I had to watch. I had no eyes to close nor a neck to turn my head away. I had no throat to scream with nor hands to seek vengeance with. I was driven mad by the sheer pain of it all that never ended. Day in and day out. I was in Hell.


	13. AN!

I've decided that I feel a very strong desire to edit this story out somewhat. Smooth some rough edges, change a few details, possibly incorporate some of the canon introduced in Book 6 since this was written before that and all. So yah. If I add a chapter or two as a result don't get freaked out, or too excited. I just feel the need to shine this story up a bit and I'm sure the lot of you will agree it could use some shining, lol. Anyways! Anyone who got excited only to be dissapointed should check out Sophiax's 'Out of Shadow', another good Tom R. read. Mmm, _God_ I love him,...lol. I wonder if we shouldn't all get together and chat about him-I'll bring the cookies! Haha, okay so that's my update! See you guys around!

-aspen


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